


Hierarchy of Need

by iimplicitt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Hogwarts, Love, Love/Hate, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suggestive Themes, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2019-11-19 11:09:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 188,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18134963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iimplicitt/pseuds/iimplicitt
Summary: In the throes of the second wizarding war, Delilah Meddows is killed by no other than Lord Voldemort. However, instead of dying like she was supposed to, Delilah finds herself at Hogwarts in 1943. She tries to tread carefully, but Tom Riddle is not someone so easily ignored.(Disclaimer: The dates will not be entirely accurate.)This fic is also posted on Wattpad, under the same story title and account name!!





	1. Chapter One

Air invaded her lungs so roughly that they couldn't take it anymore, they were expanded to their limit and they screamed. This isn't right. She shouldn't even be breathing in the first place. Delilah shot up, the rush giving her a headache and her eyes squinted against the light. Once her vision came to, she threw up. 

Delilah rolled on her side and her chest convulsed in on itself as she threw up whatever little food she'd had in her system. Her throat burned and a groan passed her lips as she fell on her back. The grass was soft and lightly pricked at her skin, the sun was warm and everything was just wrong. 

She should be dead. No, not should. She was dead. She'd been killed. The memory was fresh in what should be her no longer functioning brain. Delilah had been sent to retrieve something from the Department of Mysteries. Kingsley didn't want her to go but she insisted. There were more pressing matters. Blaise didn't want her to go either, though he didn't know she was a part of the Order of the Phoenix. He knew it was dangerous and she'd lied to him, saying she wouldn't go but then she did. 

And everything just fell apart so quickly. One minute she had what she needed, the next Death Eaters were everywhere. Delilah remembered the ache in her wrist as she moved her wand at rapid pace to fend off all the hexes. But then green started to blind her vision and a chill ran itself up her spine that made her feel stiff. They were trying to kill her. She'd nearly gotten out. She was in the Atrium, feet from the floo network. And then he was there. His black silk capes falling elegantly to the floor. The white spiders that were actually his hands held his wand lightly. He smiled at Delilah, there was incredible pain that seemed to last forever, she screamed, then there was a flash of green, and she was dead. 

But now she was at Hogwarts, laying in the grass next to her vomit on the shore of the Great Lake. She rolled her head to the side and her breath hitched. The castle looked beautiful and whole. It had been so long since she saw it look like that. The Hogwarts in her brain was demolished, entire walls, floors, and towers missing. The skies weren't clear, a dense fog had permanently settled on the grounds due to all the dementors. 

Delilah wanted to run inside, feel the warm heat of the fires, find a hidden section in the library with Blaise, tell absurd stories past curfew in the astronomy tower with Luna, watch Harry and Ginny at Quidditch practice, have Hermione help her with runes, sneak into the kitchens with Ron, sketch flowers with Neville, raid Zonko's with Fred and George, pester Draco, braid Cho's hair, sleep in a bed that's hers, laugh when she wanted to, cry when she wanted to. 

But she couldn't. 

Because this was not her Hogwarts. She didn't know where she was. Yes, it was the same castle, in a sense. But how had she gotten there? Was this some strange mirage her brain created? Was this her version of heaven? Delilah felt dizzy as she stumbled to her feet. Her clothes were the same. She'd been wearing nice black dress robes, an attempt to go unnoticed in the Ministry. Although her trainers peaked through. Her nose scrunched at the smell of her vomit as she walked towards the water. 

She dipped her hands in and a chill shot up both arms. It was painful but also nice, she could feel and that was what mattered. Considering she was supposed to be nothing but a corpse at the moment. Delilah splashed some water on her face and on her neck before standing up again. It was early morning and she nearly flinched when she saw people at the Quidditch field. They were practicing and their shouts of laughter rang all the way to her. She hadn't heard genuine cheer in awhile. It sounded foreign and beautiful. 

The Forbidden Forest was leering on her right while the castle tempted her on her left. Delilah felt she shouldn't go into Hogwarts. It wasn't the same, it couldn't be the same. But the forest was full of creatures that she had no defense against besides her wand. Delilah was acquainted with most of the forest, but again, who knows if it was the same? Nothing was making sense and her head began to ache again. 

She huffed and turned left, marching towards the castle with immense doubt and feigned confidence. Delilah had to keep going, she couldn't just sit by the lake forever. Once she made it onto school grounds, her main initiative was to either find a professor or get to the Room of Requirement unnoticed. But what teacher? Her mind jumped directly to Dumbledore, but was he even at this Hogwarts? Her question was answered as she turned a corner, the short auburn hair and beard nearly blinded her and he-was wearing a suit?

"What the fuck?" She mumbled, completely forgetting she was supposed to be incognito. The Albus Dumbledore, the man she knew to have long silvery hair, a crooked nose, twinkling eyes behind half moon spectacles, and always with some glimmering set of robes-was wearing a three piece suit? Delilah admitted that he pulled it off with a strange elegance but it was just odd-this wasn't the Dumbledore she knew. It wasn't her Dumbledore. He at least didn't look it. 

She stepped forward to say something, but what? How could she possibly explain her situation if she didn't know herself? As if some guardian angel was waiting on her, Dumbledore turned and caught sight of her. Delilah's breath caught in her throat, yes he looked different and was considerably younger, but his eyes still shined. And it comforted her.   
He held an expression of curiosity as he looked at her. "Professor Dumbledore, may I speak with you?" Delilah asked, her voice shaking just barely. He smiled and she nearly tripped over air-nothing was making sense. "Of course, oh this will be a very intriguing conversation. Follow me, Miss?" He mused, excitement bubbling underneath every step he took. "Delilah Meddows." She gulped as she followed him but her eyebrows furrowed, they were heading in the opposite direction of his office. 

"Why are we going this way?" She asked, feeling dumb, like she should already know the answer. He raised a brow but his lips seemed to be pulled in a permanent smile. "Where else would we be going?" He mused and her jaw clenched. So even now, this Dumbledore was still just a tiny bit insufferable. Delilah loved the man deeply, but he was so vague and too clever for her to be completely comfortable. Blaise always taunted her about it, how she just felt annoyed because she was too confused. Delilah smiled at the memory of her punching him because of that. Not hard of course, but her hand still ached and Blaise just looked amused. 

"Your office." She stated and Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, we are going to my office." Her brows furrowed and she looked over her shoulder. "But the headmaster's office is that way?" He chuckled deeply and looked at her with eyebrows raised. "The headmasters office? Well isn't that quite the feat? I wonder how the ministry took to that." He laughed lightly and Delilah's mind reeled. What the hell was he going on about? "But-" She began but Dumbledore held up a hand. 

"All in due time, Miss Meddows. Let's get to my office first-which isn't the Headmaster's...yet apparently- but it's in transfigurations." Delilah's mouth dropped open. He-he was a professor? 

But he didn't become headmaster until 1956. 

Delilah froze and couldn't find the urge to move. Even when Dumbledore turned and urged her to keep walking. Her eyes were wide and her chest constricted as she tried to repress a heave. "Where am I?" Her voice was weaker than she would've liked, but Delilah was terrified and so utterly confused. Dumbledore sighed slightly through his nose, which was crooked-much to Delilah's comfort. He gripped her elbow lightly and led her into his classroom and sat her down. 

"I think the correct question is, when are you, my dear." Her throat tightened and her tongue felt so dry it hurt as she pulled it from the roof of her mouth. Her nose stung and Delilah was sure it would start to bleed and a pressure was building behind her eyes she thought she'd go blind. 

Dumbledore observed her warily but still held his usual glimmer, he noticed that set her at ease and was trying his best to calm her nerves. It appeared she was having some sort of panic attack and her breathing was becoming rapid. He conjured a calming draught from his office and poured some into a goblet. "Drink this," His tone was soft and he handed it to her. Her eyes snapped to his hands. They were young and only slightly indicated signs of age. A memory assaulted the forefront of her mind-his right hand had been black and charred and practically dead weight attached to his arm. Then she fully remembered as her eyes dragged up to his face. 

Dumbledore was dead. 

Snape had killed him. 

He'd fallen off the top of the astronomy tower.

Dumbledore was dead. 

But now he was here, in front of her, young and healthy. And alive. And it was wrong and strange and confusing. She began to feel light headed and Dumbledore eased the potion to her lips, he'd realized she was about to faint and he thought best she do it with a calm mind.


	2. Chapter Two

Delilah woke up about twenty minutes later and her head felt heavier than led. She groaned and her head rolled to the side. Soft velvet was underneath her and she let her body weight fall into it-only for a moment-before she shot up again. Her wand was drawn and her eyes darted frantically around the room, they were on high alert ready for any threat. And then her blue eyes landed on Dumbledore and her hand trembled. 

So it wasn't just some fucked up dream?

The need, no the want to cry was so strong but nothing happened. Because deep in her subconscious she knew how much she despised crying. Most considered crying a friend, a way to vent, but she'd always just felt gross and dull afterwards. She took a deep breath as he made his way over carefully. He held a cup that had steam billowing out from the rim and the smell of tea danced its way towards her. 

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet as she took the cup from him and he smiled in reassurance. After two sips, she settled into the couch he'd conjured and attempted to let her muscles relax. "When," she paused. "When am I?" He leaned back in his chair and observed her quietly. The silence was deafening and Delilah shifted in her seat, her eyes darting anywhere but his own eyes. Every time Dumbledore looked at someone, it felt as if he had peeled back every layer they've worked so hard to put up. He could see through anyone and it was disconcerting. 

Her eyes shifted to something in the back corner of his office and her breath hitched. Dumbledore followed her gaze and a warm smile breached his lips. "So I take it you know of Fawkes?" The Phoenix perked it's head up at the sound of its name and tilted its head as it observed Delilah. Her eyes felt heavy as she remembered Dumbledore's funeral, how the cry of the Phoenix rang like a melody from the heavens until it ceased to ever be heard again. A weight dropped in her heart as she looked at that beautiful bird. That bird who helped save Harry his second year from the basilisk, the bird who helped Dumbledore escape from the corrupted clutches of the Ministry. That bird was the symbol for the Order of the Phoenix. 

That bird was hope. 

"You could say that." Delilah said calmly, despite the raging surge of just everything happening inside her. She took notice on how he hadn't answered her yet. Perhaps he was prolonging, in worry she'd lash out. "I won't faint on you again, I promise." Humor was her best defense and she hoped to god it was working. Lord knows it was the only thing to help her in this current predicament. "Today is the third of September, 1943." He said slowly, knowing she probably wouldn't believe what she was hearing. 

Her muscles tensed and her grip was so severe on the cup she thought it'd break in her hand. "1943?" Her voice was quiet and she blinked at Dumbledore, pure and utter confusion etched itself onto her face. "But how-" She began but Dumbledore shook his head. "I know nothing of how you got here, please enlighten me? Recall whatever you can." He leaned back in his chair and pulled lightly at the tufts of hair on his shorter beard. 

"Well I-" she set down the cup on the table next to her. Delilah's hands were trembling and she was in no mood to drop scolding tea on herself. "I was at the Ministry, and then- well I- I was-" she stopped and looked at Dumbledore. He mused silently to himself as he saw conflict raging behind her eyes. 

This was Dumbledore. The man who helped Harry through so much, no matter how complicated and infuriating that process was, he was still kind and generous. And he was just about the only man Delilah new who could help. She cleared her throat, "Well, I was killed. And then I woke up on the edge of the Great Lake, and now I'm here." Dumbledore felt his lips tug downwards slightly. She'd been killed? 

"What year was this?" He asked softly, not wanting to break what trust she seemed to already have deeply embedded to him. It appears she already knew who he was. "1998, towards the end of it." Dumbledore tapped his chin and seemed to sink further into his chair. "So, you've somehow jumped back fifty five years..." he hummed to himself and Delilah felt the urge to yell at him. Which she scolded herself mentally for. She wanted him to have the answers, he always seemed to have them, but that was unfair of her to expect. "How old are you?" Dumbledore wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer, she looked so young yet she'd suffered a terrible fate. 

"Seventeen." Delilah eyed him curiously, not entirely sure how his questions were relevant. "And you're positive you had no time-turner on your person?" Delilah shook her head and her vision swam. She was having trouble comprehending on how any of this was real. She shouldn't be there. This was wrong. She should be dead and cold and gone. 

One would question why she's not jumping off the walls in enthusiasm. She's been given a second shot at life, has she not? But this wasn't her life. None of her friends or family were there with her. This wasn't her Hogwarts, this wasn't even her Dumbledore. 

Dumbledore's mind rang with theories but none of them were concrete. He needed time. He stood up abruptly and Delilah blinked up at him. "Well, if I'm to figure this out, I need time to dwell and get you on your merry way back. We've only one option for now." She slowly stood up and eyed him warily before looking at Fawkes, which seemed to calm her exponentially. "And that is?" He beamed at her and Delilah shifted on her feet. "We need you enrolled at Hogwarts. That way you don't stray too far off, your environment is limited so disturbance to the space time continuum isn't likely, and we can have frequent meetings to discuss this issue. I also strongly stress that you tell no one of your situation, not any knowledge of the future. Including me." 

Delilah's jaw went slack. "Enroll? Here? But-" Hogwarts hadn't really been a school for well over two years. Not since the Ministry took over, followed by the Death Eaters. Despite not getting much out of her classes, Harry had taught her extensive knowledge on Defense Against the Dark Arts during DA meetings. Plus with the constant attacks over the summers and-she shuddered- the battle, her dueling skills were of the highest grade. She'd gotten quite handy at some nasty hexes. 

"Oh yes, yes, of course!" Dumbledore exclaimed, hitting himself lightly on the forehead. "I couldn't just walk into Dippets office and say we have a new student. We need to form a new identity for you." His tone was light but Delilah gaped at him. "We'll need to get you sorted of course." He blustered as he made his way to a floor to ceiling bookshelf and began to flick through some ancient looking novels. "First things first, a background." Delilah stood rooted to the spot. 

This was insane. 

Bloody insane. 

"We could say you're German? Though with the current heat of things that's probably not best." He muttered and flicked through a few pages. "Or American? How's your American accent?" He asked and Delilah stumbled as she tried to reply but he shook his head. "No, dreadful. Never mind." 

"I speak French." She muttered and he snapped the book shut, resulting in her flinching. "Excellent! We can say you went to Beauxbatons, and your parents sent you here due to war effort. Oh let's see...Pontmercy! Yes that will do." Dumbledore started for the door and threw it open. Delilah blinked a few times before stumbling after him. "Where are we going?" Some students were in the hall and they eyed her curiously, and Delilah eyed them back with just as much wonder. The Hogwarts uniforms of the forties were much more refined than the ones in the nineties. Although, they did allow them to wear whatever they wanted from time to time. She remembered when she showed up to one of her exams in sweatpants and some people just lost it. Notability purebloods, seeing as they've probably never even seen such clothing. 

"To see Dippet, get you enrolled, and sorted." He smiled at few students as they walked past and Delilah did her best to avoid looking at anyone. They reached the the Headmasters office and Dumbledore muttered "Ministry", which was slightly off putting. She was so used to the passwords being some obscure muggle candy he was obsessed with. After ascending the staircase, Dumbledore knocked once and nerves pooled in the pit of Delilah's stomach. What if Dippet didn't believe her? What if he wouldn't allow her in? 

"Come in!" Said a boisterous voice and Dumbledore shot a smile at Delilah before opening the doors. "Ah, Albus! Hello- oh hello!" Dippets gaze fell on Delilah and he wobbled himself around his desk. Delilah blinked at the old and large man in front of her. She's only ever seen his portrait and even then he was always sleeping. She repressed a laugh as he smiled at her, he resembled a walrus. "Hello," she greeted timidly and shook Dippets hand. "I've come to get her enrolled." Dumbledore told him and the man's eyebrows furrowed. "Enrolled?" 

Dumbledore explained her 'situation' with ease and Delilah marveled at how good of a liar he was. She didn't know whether to appraise him or be put off. "Oh, poor child!" Dippet called and ushered her to quickly sit down. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and caught Dumbledore looking at her amused. "Why yes of course! I'll just have to get the paperwork sorted but-oh yes of course!" He was practically shouting and Delilah raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore. "We have to get you sorted don't we? Let me just get the hat." 

Delilah's eyebrows knitted together. She was a Ravenclaw and wanted to tell him that, but she knew she couldn't. She bit her tongue and Dippet brought out the old and torn hat that had decided where she belonged all those years ago. Or perhaps, this hat hasn't exactly done that yet. Delilah looked at it apprehensively and Dippet misread it for fright. "Oh don't worry! You'll hear a voice in your ear and he'll just decide which house he sees you best fit into." The hat hovered above her head and she spared one last glance at Dumbledore before it fell over her eyes. 

Everything was silent for a few seconds before a gruff voice cleared its throat in her ear. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, Miss Meddows? Well isn't this a surprise? Come for a round two?” 

“Wait, you know me? But we don't meet for another half century-“

“Don't think too hard about it, dear. I don't think your brain can take it, so much is happening inside your head it's giving me of all things a headache.”

“Please, just sort me into Ravenclaw. I want this over with.”

“Ravenclaw? Are you sure?” 

“What do you mean, "am I sure?" Of course I am. I'm a Ravenclaw. You put me there. I belong there, they share my traits. Witty and creative and they never sleep enough.”

“Well, yes, that is true. You are deep down, a Ravenclaw at heart. But, do you really believe you belong there now?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Stop being cryptic.” 

The Sorting Hat chuckled and Delilah felt the urge to rip it off her head and set it on fire. 

“It means, Delilah Meddows, that you belong somewhere else in this time. Your skills are to be of use somewhere else, somewhere to help.” 

“That's still not making any sense...what house?”

“Why, Slytherin, of course!”

“You're joking.” 

“I never joke.” 

“But-But I'm not a Slytherin! I'm not ambitious, I'm not that cunning-I don't think. And as I'm sure you know, my self-preservation skills are a bit rubbish.” 

“You're wise beyond your years, my dear.” 

“Exactly! A Ravenclaw trait!” 

“Believe me, you are needed in the house of Salazar Slytherin. Time will tell, it always does.” 

“Now just hang on a bloody minute-“ 

"SLYTHERIN!" 

Delilah's mouth fell open and she ripped the hat off, shooting daggers at the old cloth and set it rather roughly on Dippets desk. "That was infuriating." She muttered but froze when she saw Dippet looking at her confused and Dumbledore wore a slight smile but-was that worry? 

"What was infuriating?" Dumbledore asked and she shifted a bit in her seat, her fingers played absentmindedly with her sleeve. "Oh nothing it was just...not what I was expecting." She'd forgotten he wasn't too fond of Slytherin house, even though he took a liking to Snape-for some odd reason-and he was friends with Slughorn. Although that man was anything but harmful, talented yes, but harmless. 

"Well isn't this exciting! A new addition to Slytherin! Oh, Horace will be very pleased." Delilah turned quickly to look at Dippet. Slughorn was here too? She felt relief shoot through her, she knew two teachers then. In a sense. "Albus, I believe he has a class at the moment, so would you get her schedule together and show her around the castle?" Dippet asked as he began to file through enrollment papers. "Of course, sir. This way." He led Delilah out into the hallway and as soon as the door shut she whirled around. She attempted not to laugh as Dumbledore leaned back in order not to get hit by her hair. 

"I cannot believe it put me in Slytherin!" She whispered fiercely. He sighed and gestured for her to keep walking. "What house were you in before? Gryffindor perhaps?" He mused and Delilah shook her head with a slight smile. "No, I'm afraid not. I'm a Ravenclaw. But most of my friends were in your house." They walked aimlessly towards the courtyards, seeing as she didn't really need a tour. Delilah was sure she knew this castle better than most, thanks to the Marauders map. 

"It's not that I have anything against Slytherin," she began and kicked at a pebble. "It's just, I don't belong there. Despite what the hat said. It said I'd be useful and I was there to help. Though it wouldn't tell me why. And-" she cut herself off and stared at a fountain they were approaching. She remembered when in fourth year, Ginny tripped and fell in, and afterwards pulled Delilah in with her. They laughed so hard their ribs hurt and then Snape found them and gave them detention. 

"I'm not a pureblood." Delilah said quietly and Dumbledore looked at her for a moment. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the man, "I'm not ashamed. It's just-this is Slytherin in the forties. People in my time still hold a prejudice and I can only assume it's worse here. What, with Grindelwald looming over everyone's heads." She would never openly admit this, but she's read some of Grindelwald's speeches and other claims and the man did know how to work with words and persuade. She never agreed, of course. His ideology considered her the scum of the earth. 

Delilah wasn't a pureblood, but she wasn't a muggle born either. No, she was a half blood, which to some isn't as 'bad' but it isn't as good either. One of Grindelwalds lines was stuck in her head and she hated how beautiful it was. But the context behind it was a nightmare. 

"Magic blooms only in rare souls."

He wasn't wrong, the gift of magic was-it was magnificent. And she did feel lucky, both her parents were magical but neither were purebloods. Even if they were, being a witch or wizard is never guaranteed. She could've been a squib. That was the problem with the pureblood fanatics. Their chances of being a squib were just as likely as hers. Plus all the inbreeding. Delilah shivered at the thought of having to marry a sibling. 

"Well," Dumbledore began. "Should the occasion arise when you're asked about your ancestry. You can say you're from a distant line in France." Delilah nodded but bit at her lip, a bad habit of hers. "But, isn't there a Lestrange here? And Rosier? They'd know I was lying." He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. Delilah still wasn't used to seeing him in a suit. "We can meet weekly, and should any problems occur please come tell me. If you ever fear for your wellbeing, please alert me at once. Personally I feel you'll do well, I believe you can handle yourself. But...some of the people in the house have slightly questionable, morals, I suppose. Just be careful, Miss Pontmercy." He patted her on the back and she smiled at him. Confused for only a moment as she realized that was her new name. 

She never really got private time with the man. Harry was always the closest to him. Delilah only talked with Dumbledore on occasion, but he was always helpful and always knew what to do. Again, he was a bit infuriating, but she understood Harry now. Dumbledore just had the enigmatic aura about him. "Let's get your schedule together, do you know your O.W.L or N.E.W.T scores?" 

"I was in advanced potions, defense against the dark arts, transfigurations, care of magical creatures, and charms. And then I'm in arithmancy, alchemy, and ancient studies." Dumbledore laughed lightly as he opened the door to his office. "Quite the accomplished witch, aren't you?" Delilah flushed slightly and shook her head. She wanted to tell him about Hermione, but he'd meet her all in due time. Notably forty eight years.


	3. Chapter Three

Dumbledore got her schedule together and just before he handed it to her, there was rapid knocking on his office door. "Come in!" He called and a man threw open the door and nearly tripped over his own feet. He was breathing heavily and spun towards Delilah. "Is this her? Oh hello, my dear!" Slughorn shook Delilah's hand rapidly, the notion caused her whole arm to shake and she couldn't bite back a smile. "Hello, I'm Delilah Pontmercy." It was weird introducing herself to him again. 

"The newest edition to Slytherin! Oh, is this your schedule?" He nipped the papers from Dumbledore, whom held an amused expression at his colleague. "Very bright? Very bright indeed! Oh yes, a lovely addition to my house! Albus, the house cup will surely be ours I'm afraid. What, with Tom and now Miss Pontmercy? Surely it's in our grasp!" Delilah blinked at how energetic he was. Sure, he was always good natured in her time but he was much older and seemed tired. He was at Hogwarts after all, seemingly for protection. The Death Eaters kept trying to recruit him. 

"Come along! Let me take you to your common room." He shuffled out the door and Delilah glanced at Dumbledore. "We can meet tomorrow morning if you'd like-"

"Come along!" Slughorn shouted. Delilah nodded at Dumbledore and smiled uneasily. It had just hit her she'd actually have to sleep in a new place full of people who'd probably hex her if they found out she was a halfblood. Delilah had only been down the Slytherin common room once and she didn't hate it, it was just so vastly different from her own house. The Ravenclaw tower was one of the highest and had the best view with floor to ceiling windows. The walls were white granite and had royal blue velvet curtains that looked like water falling. The dome ceiling was enchanted, similar to the Great Hall, but it permanently showed the cosmos. Off to left there was an archway to their own private library and in the middle of the room was a marble sculpture of Rowena Ravenclaw. 

But as Delilah entered the Slytherin common room, everything was dark and black marble tile spread through the room. A green shimmer filtered into the room from high windows, due to the Great Lake being just outside. She'd nearly forgotten they were under water. Many couches for lounging were throughout the room, all black leather with emerald green accents and a fire was crackling in a huge mantel piece on the far right of the room. Above it was a painting of Salazar Slytherin and there were other artifacts littered on top. Upon further notice she saw there was a large snake carved out of black stone. It was beautiful. 

"Boys dormitories are to the left, girls to the right. Seventh years will be on the top floor. Shouldn't miss it. Now I have to pop off I'm afraid! But I'll send Tom to fetch you for dinner, that'll give you enough time to settle in. Remember the password is Ouroboros." With that he scuttled out of the room and she blinked. The common room was empty, most likely due to everyone was in class. She eyed the fireplace one last time before turning right. 

Getting to her room, she opened the door and took everything in. Again, it was just so different from what she was used to. 

The Ravenclaw dorms were in a high tower so natural light poured in from the huge windows. They had dark wood flooring and a large cream colored rug was set in the middle. The ceiling was domed as well and each bed was a four poster with those rich royal blue curtains with bronze accents. 

This room however had black wood flooring and stone walls. The room was warm but as she touched the wall a chill ran up her spine. The beds were four posters as well but emerald green curtains hung heavy and had silver tassels to hold them closed. She spotted the empty bed, which was presumably hers, and ran her hands over the soft velvet. She pulled the covers back and saw a black blanket laid on top of pristine white sheets. She sat down and sighed at how comfortable it was. Before she knew it, she was out like a light.

____________________________________

When Tom was told they had a new student, his eyebrow quirked slightly upward. They've had a few this past year, due to the war raging all around Europe, but none of them had been sorted into Slytherin. He nodded at Slughorn and plastered on a smile. "Of course, I'll go and retrieve her now." The Potions teacher clapped him on the back as he left and Tom sighed once he was in the hallway. 

That man was insufferable. 

He made his way to the last door in the girls dormitories, and read the engraved 'Seventh Years' before knocking. He got no answer and huffed through his nose. Perhaps she was in the bathroom? Or she wandered off? No, that'd be stupid of her if she didn't know the way around the castle. He knocked again and still got no reply. He tested the door handle and it clicked open. Idiots, they should always lock the door. 

He peaked in slightly and saw a form on one of the beds, their body rising and falling slightly as they breathed. He made his way around the bed and tilted his head to the side as he observed her. She was asleep of course, and had her mouth hanging open slightly. Her hair was a golden blonde and sprawled out across the pillow, it was a nice contrast to her pale skin and her cheeks seemed permanently flushed. He stepped back towards the door and cleared his throat as he knocked harder on it. 

She shot up, blinking the sleep from her eyes, and Tom eyed her wand in amusement as she had it in her hand, ready to fire a spell. "I'm sorry to intrude but, Slughorn sent me to fetch you for dinner." Delilah shook her head slightly to calm her dizzy mind and her eyes turned towards the polite voice. Her breath hitched slightly once they landed on Tom. 

He was tall and slender, and his hands were clasped behind his back and his head was tilted to the side. His dark curls fell nicely in place and his eyes were a warm brown but still oddly cold. They looked guarded. His skin was pale and pulled tightly across his high cheekbones. All and all, he was handsome and Delilah blushed slightly. "Right, of course." She hopped off the bed and attempted to pat down her hair as she walked towards him. "I assume you're Tom, then?" She held out a hand and he eyed it for a second. Strange. He smiled politely and shook her hand, it was cold. 

"Tom Riddle, the Head Boy. You are? I'm afraid Slughorn was so excited he forgot to mention it." She smiled at him but something began to nudge at the back of her brain. His name sounded familiar but she couldn't place it. "Delilah Pontmercy." He nodded and gestured for her to walk in front of him. 

As they made their way out of the common room, Tom eyed her over. Her attire was different to say the least. They were good quality robes, so he assumed she wasn't issued a uniform yet. Although, he caught sight of her shoes and his eyebrows furrowed. They were a bright red and the word 'converse' could be read on a white circle on the inside of her ankle. Peculiar. 

"If you don't mind me asking, where are you from?" Tom could never ignore his curiosity. Usually he wouldn't care, but she didn't exactly sound foreign, so he wondered why she wasn't at Hogwarts already. 

"Well, I'm from here. Technically. But my parents sent me to school in France. Beauxbatons." Tom raised a brow in polite interest. Delilah's heartbeat picked up pace slightly as they made their way to the Great Hall. She was nervous she'd fumble over her words but she was an incredible liar. She hoped that would get her through this. "Really? Why not Hogwarts?" She wanted to ask him why he was so interested but bit her tongue. He was just being polite and was making conversation. 

"They don't exactly agree with the teaching system here, problems with the Ministry I presume. I don't know why, every time I bring it up they get pissy." Tom hummed and looked at her, plastering on his charming smile so many people fell for. Delilah wasn't prepared in the slightest to see it. His teeth were perfect and it really wasn't fair. His pink lips pulled up but, something was slightly off. It didn't seem to quite reach his eyes. 

"Aimez-vous votre temps en France?" He asked her and she blinked at him. Okay, that really wasn't fair. It was bad enough he was handsome and charming, but to also speak another language was rude. "Oui. Merci de demander. Aimez-vous votre temps à Hogwarts?" Tom kept his smile on his face but sighed slightly through his nose. So she could speak French. He was hoping it might've been some rouse. He didn't know why, but something was off about her. She was too guarded. And once that flame of curiosity and wonder was alight inside of him, his urge to figure it out was insatiable. 

He laughed lightly and nodded his head. "Yes, Hogwarts is a magnificent place. You will have much to discover while you are here. Although it is shame you will only have a year. I have been here for seven and I still have yet to discover every secret the Castle has to offer." Delilah hummed and an amused glimmer shone in her eyes. Oh, she knew well what secrets this Castle held and she'd be damned if she ever shared them. If she was stuck here for the time being, they were hers and hers alone. It seemed the only thing giving her reassurance, besides Dumbledore.

They reached the Great Hall and Delilah's breath caught in her throat. Each table was full with laughing and chatting students, all bunched together with their friends in their houses. Smiles were everywhere and the lighting was a warm orange glow. It was overwhelming for her. She hadn't seen the Great Hall look like this in what felt like an eternity. In her time, the Great Hall was now in ruins. Part of the ceiling had caved in, the enchanted ceiling no longer worked, and the windows were shattered. The two massive oak doors had also been blown off their hinges. 

"Miss Pontmercy?" Tom asked as he eyed her, he feigned concerned and she turned to look at him. She blinked a few times and it seemed she was remembering something. Something important. "Sorry." She mustered and forced a light laugh. Tom easily saw something was bothering her. "So, Slytherin is the all green table I presume?" She pointed to the table to the far left that was clad in emerald green and he nodded. "Correct, this way. You can sit with me if you would like?" 

He'd actually prefer if she didn't, but it would look wrong if he didn't offer. Besides, Delilah didn't seem like a jumbled mess of hormones when she talked to him, like so many other witches, so perhaps it wouldn't be insufferable. "Oh, sure. Thank you." She followed him and ignored to her best ability all the stares she was getting. None of them appeared to be negative, just curious.

Tom gestured for her to sit down and he sat next to her. "Gentleman, this is Miss Delilah Pontmercy." He introduced her and she smiled kindly at all the boys. It faltered however when a boy with platinum blonde hair made his way into her line of sight. There was no mistaking he was a Malfoy. Could this really be one of Draco's relatives? 

He had the same aristocratic air about him, but his features weren't as pointed. His nose was soft and held a few freckles, he had a strong jaw and his crystalline eyes seemed gentler. He was much more muscular than Draco however, Draco was more lean if she recalled correctly. It's been ages since she saw him. The boy in front of her also had a severely different hairstyle. Draco's was always slicked back but this boys hair was similar to Tom's. His hair was styled into neat waves that were brushed back. It was suitable for this time period, she supposed. It fit him. 

"Pyrrhus Lestrange, just call me Lestrange though." A boy with messy black hair and black eyes shook hands with Delilah. A chill ran up her spine at the sound of his name. Flashes of the maniacal laugh of Bellatrix flickered in Delilah's mind but she shook her head. Bellatrix was only a Lestrange by marriage. 

The boy to his right held out his hand. He had light brown hair that was significantly messier than the others, and his eyes were a pale green. "Elio Rosier." Delilah shook his hand as well and stared at him just a bit too long. His eyes reminded her of Harry, though Elio's weren't as vibrant. 

Next was a boy with dirty blonde hair, his skin was tanned and he held a light smile. "Cain Avery." 

The platinum blonde Malfoy turned his gaze on her and smiled charmingly, it was crooked and endearing. "Abraxas Malfoy." Her heart was beating rapidly and she was sure they'd be able to hear it. She wondered if Abraxas had any of the same mannerisms as Draco. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." The food appeared on the table and she feigned surprise. "Oh how lovely!" She laughed lightly and her eyes seemed to wander towards Elio. It was quite unfair that all of Tom's friends were attractive. 

He returned her smile and leaned forward on his elbows. "If you think that's something, look up." She already knew he was talking about the enchanted ceiling, but she let her eyes wander upwards and a genuine smile reached her lips. She'd missed looking at the stars during her meals. Or if it was raining, thunder clouds would rumble softly above their heads. "It's beautiful." 

"Miss Pontmercy-" she laughed and shook her head at Tom. "Call me Delilah, please. Miss Pontmercy is too formal." She realized she'd have to get used to the much more formal etiquette of the forties. "Of course. Well, Delilah, do you know what classes you will be taking up?" She told them what her curriculum was and Avery raised his brows at her. "Well you're certainly a smart one, you're seriously taking advanced arithmancy and alchemy?" He shook his head in disbelief as he bit into a roll of bread. "My brain hurts just thinking about it." He said through a mouth full and Avery hit him up upside the head. "You have no manners, I swear." He muttered and Delilah smiled in amusement. 

"What school did you go to before? Or are you homeschooled? I heard people were doing that now because of Grindelwald." Abraxas asked. Before she could open her mouth, Tom answered for her. "Delilah went to Beauxbatons, believe it or not." The boys scoffed and turned towards Delilah in amazement. "That school is beautiful, especially the ladies." Lestrange commented and Tom shot him a look. "Manners, gentlemen." Lestrange shrugged and winked at Abraxas, both whom were picturing the light blue skirts the Beauxbatons girls wore. 

Elio rolled his eyes and smiled at Delilah with a bit of a challenge behind his smirk. "Parlez-vous vraiment français, mon cher?" She blushed slightly as she filled her plate. "Oui. Est-ce que tout le monde parle français ici?" First Tom spoke to her in French and now Elio? Well, she expected him to know. A majority of the Rosier line lived in France. "N'excluons pas l'autre moitié du groupe, l'anglais s'il vous plaît." Tom mused and only then did Delilah notice the confused looks she was getting from Avery and Abraxas. "Sorry." She blushed. 

"Oh, no. Please keep going. When Rosier speaks French it's annoying but it's sounds like heaven coming from your lips, love." Abraxas winked at her and Delilah was sure she was beat red in the cheeks. "Merlin." Elio chuckled and shook his head as he smacked Abraxas on the arm lightly. "What? A little flirting never hurt anyone." The blonde shrugged and Delilah decided to just quietly eat her food. However, Dippet called attention and she froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth. 

"May I have your attention!" He called, his voice boomed and she could only assume he charmed his vocal chords. "I would like to welcome a new edition to Hogwarts, Miss Delilah Pontmercy. A transfer from Beauxbatons and a seventh year Slytherin!" He gestured for Delilah to stand up and she shook her head. She spotted Dumbledore smiling at her in amusement from the staff table and she mentally cursed him. Delilah attempted to duck down, but Lestrange gripped her elbows. "No, stop it!" She whispered and he smiled at her mischievously. He stood up and practically dragged her into a standing position. "She's a little shy." He called out and Delilah's eyes widened and she smacked his chest. "Shut up." She hissed and spun around to look at all the eyes on her. 

Delilah smiled awkwardly and waved. "Hello." She was slightly surprised by the reaction she was getting. On one half, most were just curious or indifferent. But a good majority of the Gryffindor table had suspicion behind their eyes. She resisted the urge to flip them off, she hated house prejudice. She fumbled at she sat down and elbowed Lestrange. "That was embarrassing!" She bit and glared at the amusement radiating off of him. "Now, I expect all of you to give her a warm welcome! And if she or any student needs help, I expect each and everyone of you to give it." With that, Dippet nodded and returned to the staff table. 

Delilah flushed at all the glances she was getting and sunk lower into her seat. "He has a flare for the dramatic, I am afraid." Tom said as cut into his apple but paused as he watched Delilah just bite into hers. Her left cheek pushed out as she chewed and she raised a brow at him before it dawned on her. 

Right. Forties etiquette. She’s supposed to be a dainty female. 

She swallowed and set her apple down. The others were wrapped up in their own conversation. "Tom, would it be too much trouble for you to show me where my classes are tomorrow?" He shook his head although he'd prefer to just have Rosier or Malfoy do it. She seemed rather taken with those two. But as Head Boy he had a reputation to uphold. "Of course, I believe we have Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts together tomorrow."


	4. Chapter Four

She walked with the boys back to the common room, they held light and amusing conversation. At one point Lestrange said something and Elio put him in a headlock. They laughed loudly and Tom shook his head at the sight of them. They were utter children. He eyed Delilah and saw she held a look of amusement and, and something else. He didn't know what. 

As Delilah watched them rough house she couldn't help but think of Harry and Ron messing about. Of Blaise and Draco at each other's throats with half hearted petty insults. How Fred and George would somehow slip into an all out prank war. Or when Delilah and her brother Harrison would bicker. She missed them dearly. 

"Well, goodnight." She told them and they all waved as she walked down the hall. Once Tom heard her door close he turned to the rest of the boys. He kept his voice down since other students were filing into the common room. "Meeting at midnight." He said simply and they all nodded obediently. With that he turned and left for the Head Boys dormitory. 

Once Delilah got into her room, she spotted two girls on their respective beds. Her own bed was remade and a fresh uniform was laid on top. She walked over and felt the fabric. It was a grey pleated skirt, a nice white button down, a grey knitted vest with a green accent on the neck line, a green tie, tights, knee socks that had a trim of lace, leather shoes with a slight heel, and her robes. 

She picked up her school robes and examined them with interest. She was so used to hers having the Ravenclaw symbol and accent of royal blue. 

"You're the new girl." A voice suddenly said and Delilah spun around, her hand gripping her wand in her pocket. She relaxed as she noted it was one of her roommates. "Yes." She cleared her throat. "Yes, I am. I'm Delilah, nice to meet you." The girl was pale and had long, raven black hair and dark eyes. She looked Delilah over for a minute before smiling. It was small, but it was there. "I like your shoes." She commented and Delilah looked down at her red converse. Right, she'd have to store those away for now. "I'm Lolita Tremblay." Lolita nodded towards the other girl. Delilah's eyes shifted over to her and found that the brunette was glaring at her. "That's Olive Hornby. She's a bit bitter at the moment, ignore her." 

"She, can hear you." Olive huffed and made her way over. "I don't trust new people, don't take it to heart, dear." Olive eyed her over as well and Delilah shifted a bit on her feet. "Right well, nice to meet you both. I'm just gonna hop in the bathroom." She went to her dresser and was delighted to see they provided her with bedwear as well. Probably thanks to Dumbledore. She noted to thank him next time she saw him. 

After a quick wash, she changed into the clothes and laughed slightly at herself in the mirror. The pants were light and airy and reached her mid calf, and the shirt was of the same material. Delilah knew she'd grow to miss just sleeping in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. 

___________________________________

Ten till midnight rolled around the corner and the boys snuck their way out of the common room to the Head Boys. The Head Girl was doing her rounds so the common room was to themselves. When they entered, Tom was already sat in a large chair off to the side of the fireplace. "Question." He said simply and the boys fell silent. "What do we think of Miss Delilah Pontmercy?" They eyed each other warily before Rosier cleared his throat. "She seems nice, my lord. And based off her classes, smart." Tom hummed and his fingers twirled his wand elegantly. 

"Yes, intelligent." He wondered if she possibly bought her way into N.E.W.T classes, like Malfoy, but her last name wasn't of any reputable wealth. In fact, he's never even heard of it. So she was most likely a halfblood or mudblood. He wasn't going to rush to bringing this to attention, though. Again, there was something off about her. Something wrong. She carried herself too carefully and always seemed to think too much before she spoke. 

"Keep an eye on her." The boys looked at each other but nodded. And in unison they spoke, "yes, my lord." Tom eyed them all and he let a sigh pass his lips. "Now, to more pressing matters. This is our last year, and although Dumbledore said he'd consider me for a position, he's clearly lying. He's good at hiding everything except his disdain for me." Just thinking about the man set off a fire inside Tom. Everything would be working much more pleasantly if he never admitted to how he enjoyed hurting people to get what he wanted. He was naive and a fool when he first met Dumbledore. 

Tom rubbed his eyes as the memory shot its way forward. He'd just turned eleven and a strange man showed up at the orphanage asking to speak with him. He was currently being confined to his room because he'd gotten in trouble for stealing a kids ball. He wanted to borrow it, but the boy wouldn't give it to him, so he got angry and suddenly the boy was thrown back and the ball was in his hand. Tom had started to realize he was different from the other kids. That he was special. But his so called talent always seemed to get him in trouble. Then this man came into his room and smiled at him, and Tom felt that same aura of strangeness surrounding him. Tom immediately took a liking to Dumbledore, funny enough. Although Tom already knew he was something abstract from usual kids, Dumbledore confirmed his theory. He'd told him he could do magic and a genuine cheerful laugh escaped his lungs. But then it went downhill from there. Tom showed Dumbledore how he could light his dresser on fire, how he could take things if he wanted them, how he could make people hurt. And that glimmer left Dumbledore's eyes as concern shielded them. As Dumbledore was leaving, Tom panicked, thinking he wouldn't let him attend this lovely school he'd called Hogwarts. He told Dumbledore he could talk to snakes. That then sealed his fate, Dumbledore would never grow to trust Tom. 

He sneered and pushed the flashback away. He couldn't believe he could be so stupid. But he supposed it had to happen. There was no going back to change it. If he would have never told Dumbledore of his little talent, he might have never been allowed to come to Hogwarts. He'd never tell anyone, but this castle was his home. And he was indebted to it, in a sense. 

"About this summer," he began and watched as the boys tensed. "Malfoy, Rosier, are you still able to go to France?" They both nodded. "My parents have left me the summer house, as a graduation gift of sorts. If we need to regroup, it's available." Rosier said and Tom appraised him silently. "Good, if I am correct, that's where Grindelwald will be passing time. Lestrange and Avery, you will be stationed back in London for the time being. Grindelwald still does not trust you Lestrange, thanks to your lovely aunt." Lestrange shivered slightly and clenched his jaw. His aunt Leta had gone against Grindelwald and was killed in the Lestrange Mausoleum. His parents always told him about it, how she'd been a blood traitor. 

Despite anyone else's knowledge, he had a news clipping back from 1927, the year she died. She was between two men of the Scamander line and she was to be married to Newt. Though, he supposed she died before they ever could. He also had a copy of Newt Scamander's book he'd kept meaning to get signed. He wanted to meet Newt and ask about Leta. But his family would disown him and he could never work up the courage. 

"Do you think it's true, then?" Malfoy asked and Tom lazily rolled his head to the side to look at him. "Do I think what is true?" Malfoy shifted his weight and tried his best to look Tom in the eyes. It might've only been five seconds, but to Malfoy an enternity passed. He seemed to shrink under Tom's heavy, scrutinizing gaze. His dark eyes were usually passive when they were in public, but in the privacy of their meetings something darker, something more dangerous, teased its way to the surface. 

Malfoy looked away and Tom felt his lips tug upwards in a smirk. "That Grindelwald has the Elder Wand." Malfoy finished. Tom sighed and looked away from him and into the fire. "Yes, if my research is correct. And it always is. Apparently, Grindelwald took it from Gregorovitch, who murdered Antioch Peverell. And at the age of around nineteen, maybe early twenties." Tom ran his fingers over his own wand delicately. If he were to obtain the ownership of the Elder Wand, which he was going to do, he didn't think he could so easily give up his own. He'd still keep it with him no doubt. 

The thought seemed foolish, but he had a connection to it. Well, no, it wasn't foolish. Ollivander had told him the wand chooses the wizard. And Tom remembered the joy and pride he felt when Ollivander told him he was the first person to ever have a Phoenix feather core. Furthermore proving that he was special, that he was different. 

Avery cleared his throat and Tom blinked, realizing he hadn't spoken for nearly five minutes. "Dismissed." He waved his hand and they bowed their heads before leaving. He nestled further into the chair as he stared at the fire, digging into his jacket pocket he pulled out a packet of muggle cigarettes. He'd gotten addicted to the nasty things over the summer at the orphanage, but as long as no one knew he didn't see a problem. Standing up, he rolled his shoulders and made his way to his room. The Head Boy had his own quarters. It was a large room, much bigger than that of the regular dorms. His was about the size of two put together, he had a large bed with black silk sheets and emerald green velvet curtains. The floor was a dark wood and he had his own fireplace. In front of it was a couch and chair, both a black leather, for simple lounging. To the left was a desk and a small bookshelf. On the right was his dresser. 

He walked over to his large window and propped it open, resting his elbows in the edge, he snapped his fingers and they caught fire. A clever use of wandless magic he picked up at Malfoy manor one Christmas, and he lit the cigarette. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled smoke through his nose as his eyes danced around the quiet grounds of Hogwarts. 

 

The next morning, Delilah stumbled out of bed at the break of dawn. She wasn't used to a school time table anymore. Seeing as she's been a bit too busy trying not to die. She failed at that, she supposed. As she zipped up her skirt she frowned in the mirror. What she would give to get her sweatpants back. It was still dark outside and she blindly stumbled into the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. Olive didn't really seem to like her that much, so Delilah didn't want to provide a reason for the girl to hex her in her sleep. 

Rubbing at her eyes till black dots appeared, Delilah yawned and quickly brushed her teeth. The library was first on her list, she wanted to do some research on time travel. And if it came down to it, she'd even poke around the restricted section. Delilah wasn't too worried about that, Dumbledore would surely give her permission. 

She grabbed her shoes and tip toed out of the room, figuring she'd just put them on in the common room so she wouldn't make noise on the wood. She sat down on one of the couches and found herself sinking into the plush comforter. After lacing the shoes up, they had about a two inch heel- which she found ridiculous-she made her way out of the Dungeons. 

She used one of the shortcuts she knew to get to the library without anyone seeing her. Delilah was too tired to bump into one of the boys and explain how she knew to get to the library. If she did, she'd probably just say Dumbledore showed her. Peaking open the door, Delilah let out a sigh at the familiar smell of books. The Library was identical to the one in her time. Save for there was no Madam Pince breathing down the necks of students. The sun was rising so warm orange-pink light filtered through the high windows. The tables were empty and Delilah felt alone all the sudden. But she was at peace with the feeling. 

It felt like she was the only one in the world and this was her safe haven. The books sat on the shelves longing for her to pick them up as her fingers ran over the spines lightly. For the first time since she's been in the past, she felt at home again. Hogwarts was her home. But this one was just so vastly different. The people were different. The uniforms were different. Dumbledore was different. She was different. Delilah had to become someone else here. She still had her first name and her thoughts. But everything else changed. How she had to act, how she had to hold herself, her background, her house, even how she ate. 

And oh yes, she had to be incredibly careful. She mentally thanked Hermione for forcing her to take Occlumens seriously. Who knows? Someone could maybe get too curious about her and try to read her mind. Then they'd see her memories. They'd see the inferno that the future becomes. They'd get scared. And when people get scared they lash out. Which could lead to a few different endings. They could pity her, which Delilah did not want. They could try to help her get back to the future, though she didn't think they would, seeing as the future is a literal hell. But no, they shouldn't help, because that could change the future and so many lives would be at risk. They could kill her in an act of fear. They could use her for information. They could hurt her. 

A headache pricked at her mind. It was all too much and too early to be wondering about all the 'what if's'. She didn't want to stress about it, but that was inevitable. She had to worry about getting back to her time. If she didn't, she'd be stuck in place she didn't belong. And again, she could drastically, monumentally, destroy the space time continuum. Not that the current future isn't fucked up as is, but it could get a lot worse 

She had a stack of about eight books and the weight was straining on her arms, causing her hands to cramp and she sat on the floor in one of the isles. It was only about six in the morning, so nobody else should be up for another two hours. She lit a torch that was on the wall near her and began to read. There were many different theories but none of them so far were conclusive. She huffed and slammed the third book shut. "Fucking ridiculous, I swear. Do none of these idiots have a single unique thought?" She muttered to herself and nearly screamed when someone chuckled. 

Delilah looked up and saw Tom leaning against the bookshelf about ten feet away. His hands were tucked into his pockets and one leg was crossed over the other. He looked down at her through his long lashes and curiosity and amusement flickered in his eyes. Delilah silently appreciated the uniforms of the forties at Hogwarts. They were nice, dark grey suits, that fit Tom's toned form quite nicely. "Why are you here?" The question left her mouth before she gave it much thought, her tone slightly accusatory. "And good morning." Delilah quickly added and tucked some hair behind her ear. 

Tom watched as she looked up at him through her own long lashes. He'd only just noticed how richly dark blue her eyes were. He mused silently at her blunt question and watched as she instantly regretted it. Interesting that she seemed to panic. "Good morning." He laughed lightly and tilted his head. "And I am here because I had an essay to work on. May I ask why you are here?" Delilah watched as his curls swayed with the movement of his head. "Just some light reading." 

He raised a brow and indicated towards her large stack of books, the height nearly went up to her shoulders. "Light reading?" She flushed and picked up another book, as she did so she grabbed her wand and lightly flicked it, so as to disguise the titles. She inwardly cringed once she saw they all changed to sappy romance novels. Note, she didn't mind reading those from time to time, but the amused and-disappointed? look he was giving her made Delilah blush even more. He hid the disappointment quickly but she was an observant girl. "I was bored." She shrugged and with the wave of her wand the books went back to their original places. 

"What time is it?" She asked and he looked at his pocket watch that was attached to his, again, well fitted vest. "Around seven thirty. Shall I walk you to breakfast?" Delilah stared for a moment at the hand he held out, his skin was pale and his fingers long. As she placed her hand in his, she felt the roughened skin on his thumb and index finger. Her hand was considerably smaller than his as it fully clasped around it. Tom tugged her gently upward and ignored just how cold she was. Perhaps it was bad circulation? He let go of her but his eyes flickered to her hands again. They weren't just cold, they felt as if they've been dumped into a bucket of ice. 

His eyes dragged up to her face and Delilah fought down a chill that ravished up her back. His face was calculating and dark and there was something else. "Shall we?" He held out his arm and Delilah eyed it confused before it dawned on her. Right, men were chivalrous back then. "Oh, yes. Of course." She cleared her throat and picked up her bag, only to have it nicked from her hands. "Allow me." He smiled at her and she blinked at him in astonishment. 

Men were really chivalrous back then. 

She looped her arm through his and he led the way to the Great Hall, carrying her bag as they went.


	5. Chapter Five

As they made their way to Potions, Delilah had her arm looped with Elio and he had her bag slung over his shoulder. It was nice, having her things carried, but also infuriating. She knew they were just being gentlemen, but she wasn't used to such treatment. 

Delilah eyed Elio as he laughed at some joke Abraxas had told. 

His smile was bright as he threw his head back, the light brown hair swaying as he did so. He was rather good looking. Delilah laughed silently to herself. They were all rather good looking. Elio turned to look down at Delilah, remnants of his laugh still etched on his face. "I take it you've met good ol' Horace?" He asked. She hummed as she bit her lip, pulling at the skin slightly. "He's interesting. And rather loud." She remarked and Elio nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's even worse when he's around Tom. Merlin, his eyes light up as if it's Yuletide." Delilah bit back a smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Slughorn would praise Harry whenever he did the remotest thing. 

Delilah eyed Tom and leaned towards Elio to whisper, "is Tom a teachers pet then, a suck up?" Elio blinked at her before laughing, he quickly cut himself off and feigned a cough as Tom looked back at them with an eyebrow raised. Delilah stifled a laugh by burying her face in Elio's shoulder. "Sorry." She coughed and straightened out her features, a laugh still bubbled in her chest however. "I had a similar situation at Beauxbatons. This one student would do the smallest thing correctly and the professor would act like they just created some absurd cure to a poison." Elio hummed and nodded. "That's basically Slughorn with Tom. He's like this beacon at all of the parties Slughorn hosts." Delilah raised a brow at Elio. She knew he meant the Slugclub, but she didn't know Slughorn threw actual parties. She'd been invited to a dinner once and it was beyond awkward. Blaise had been asked to go and he didn't want to suffer. So what did he do? Drag Delilah along with him. 

"What parties?" She asked and Elio threw a charming grin at her. "Well, if you're as smart as you seem, Slughorn will surely give you an invite." Delilah nodded, however she made a mental note not to drag too much attention to herself. She wasn't one for parties, and the thought of being stuck at a formal event with none of her friends to back her seemed terrifying. Sure, she was comfortable enough around the boys. And Lolita seemed nice enough. All around, the idea was too intimidating. Delilah mentally thanked the heavens she wasn't as determined as Hermione to prove her knowledge. If someone asked that girl a question, there was no restraining her. Hermione's hand would always shoot up and she always perfected what she was doing. If Delilah was like that, there'd be no 'laying low'. Although, if Hermione was in her position instead, she'd probably already know how to get back to 1998 by now.

They entered into the Potions classroom and there was a surprisingly large amount of students. N.E.W.T level classes when she took them only had about twelve students. 

There were eight Slytherin's, including her. Four Gryffindors. Ten Ravenclaws, Delilah smiled at them absentmindedly. And six Hufflepuff's. Of course, they were all sitting with people in their houses. Elio tugged her towards a table in the front and she was about to yell at him for it but Slughorn caught sight of her. She sighed and glared at Elio as she took her seat. In front of her sat Tom, and next to him was Abraxas, while Elio sat next to her. 

The table behind them held Lestrange, Avery, Lolita, and Olive. And the rest were students she didn't know. "Ah, Miss Pontmercy my dear! I see you've made good friends?" He patted Tom on the back and stared at the two as if he'd just opened a gift. Delilah and Elio looked at each other and shared a knowing smile. Tom raised his eyebrow slightly at Rosier as he caught wind of the silent gesture between them. He appraised him silently, glad he was getting to work on knowing more about her so quickly. 

"Good Morning!" He called and his voice echoed off the stone walls. "Today is going to be exciting indeed! Oh, Delilah I do hope you're up for a challenge!" He laughed and tapped his nose. She shifted in her seat as she felt some eyes drift to her. It was like Slughorn wanted to make things difficult. 

"Since I'm in such a cheerful mood, why not the Elixir to Induce Euphoria? Can anyone tell me the effects?" He looked around the room but made a point to keep looking at either Tom or Delilah. Both knew the answer, but weren't bothering to raise a hand. A girl with dark red hair, a Ravenclaw, raised hers. "It induces Happiness, sir." Slughorn nodded and granted her house five points. "And side effects?" And again. He kept pointedly staring at Tom and Delilah. "Does he always do this?" She whispered and Tom nodded curtly once. 

Now she understood how Harry felt. 

"It can cause excessive singing and nose-tweaking." Lolita said and Slughorn beamed, glad someone from his house answered. "Correct! Five points to Slytherin." He waved his wand and the instructions appeared on the board. "Get to work! Your partner is who's next to you!" Elio smiled at Delilah. "I'll get the ingredients, set up the cauldron would you?" She nodded and lit a small fire beneath it. 

"Pontmercy," Tom began as Abraxas stumbled away to get what they needed. "You seem rather taken with Elio, no?" Delilah blinked and ended up coughing despite her efforts. "Define 'taken' please?" She cleared her throat and a blush crept its way up her neck. "You get along well." He said simply with a slight incline of the head, as if shrugging was beneath him. Tom could clearly see the early stages of infatuation every time Rosier looked at Delilah. Hell, any time he even talked about her. Which was ridiculous and just further proved how much of a weakness falling to such things is. Tom held himself above that. 

He got nothing but a headache every time one of the boys talked about their latest escapades. Malfoy was usually the forefront of this. Honestly, the amount of times Tom caught him in a broom closet with a some witch past curfew is ridiculously high. And Rosier has only known Delilah for day, yet he's still trying desperately hard to earn her affections. Well, he looked desperate in Tom's opinion. 

Before Delilah could ask him to further clarify, Elio came back and set everything down. "Right then, where to start." He hummed and looked at the board, but Delilah began to throw in the shrivelfig and porcupine quills and stirred until it turned blue. "Do keep up." She mused to Elio who was scratching the back of his neck. Abraxas chuckled lightly and reached to follow what Delilah was doing but Tom set him stiff with a glance. "You do not touch anything. Last time I let you help you set the bloody table on fire." Abraxas' pale cheeks flushed and he plopped himself down in his chair. He looked like a kicked puppy. 

"Do we have any peppermint?" Delilah suddenly asked. She remembered skimming through Harry's potions book, she did it without him knowing of course. But it was all marked up with notes and apparently that's what made him do so well in Potions. And there was something about adding peppermint to counteract the side effects for the elixir they were making. "Uh," Elio rifled through everything he brought over. "No, why? Do we need it?" 

"Yes, can you go and fetch it please?" Elio furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the board. "But it doesn't say-" Delilah rolled her eyes and fisted the boys shirt before pushing him off towards the supplies shelves. He laughed in disbelief as he walked off. "Well aren't you aggressive?" Abraxas mused and she shot him a glare. "I said please." 

"Why do you need peppermint?" Tom asked. He knew why, he just didn't think she'd know why. "It helps counteract the side effects." She shrugged and jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her back. Looking up, someone was dangling a jar of peppermint. Not someone, Elio. She reached to grab it but he tugged it upwards and out of her reach. "Elio!" She hissed quietly and made to reach for it again but he pulled away. "Ah Ah Ah, no can do, love." He held a smile and one eyebrow was raised. Delilah looked around the room and sighed at the amount of looks she was getting. "Elio just give me the peppermint." She made a grabbing motion with her hand but he simply tsk-d. "Nope. I deserve an apology." 

She looked at him incredulously. "An apology for what exactly?" Elio feigned a frown and turned towards Abraxas. "Can you believe this foul treatment I'm receiving?" Abraxas groaned dramatically and shook his head. "No I cannot believe it. It's dreadful. Just dreadful." Elio nodded at Abraxas and turned pointedly towards Delilah, an expectant look on his face. She gaped at them. 

Delilah began to wonder if this was how Ginny felt around her brothers. She turned to look at Tom, who was all together ignoring them. "A little help Head Boy?" He looked up after a few seconds and blinked at the situation in front of him. His lips only slightly quirked upwards at the frustrated expression of Delilah. "Gentlemen, give the poor girl a break." He looked at Delilah as if she was a child. She glared at him, but was nonetheless thankful as Elio handed her the peppermint. "You are insufferable, I swear." She mumbled. 

"Oh, don't get cross." He poked her cheek and she mentally hexed him because she was sure she was blushing like an idiot. Delilah added in peppermint until the potion turned red. Peering over at Tom's, she huffed slightly because he was ahead of her. 

Damn Elio.

She added the sopophorous beans and wormwood and let Elio add the final touches. Tom had already finished but as some sort of  'courtesy' he waited for them. She supposed he didn't want to steal all the limelight, though she would've been happy if he did. 

Elio called Slughorn over, and just before he turned around Delilah muttered a quick cheering charm. "Why'd you do that?" Elio scrunched his nose up as he peered into the cauldron. "I hate yellow." 

"It completes the potion, honestly do you read your potions book at all?" Elio was about to retort but Slughorn bustled over and clapped him hard on the back. "Let's see! Let's see! Oh... why this is splendid!" He beamed at Delilah and Elio and then looked at Tom's potion. "Merlin you just keep getting more perfect don't you?" He laughed cheerfully and Delilah's eyes widened slightly as she watched the man praise a seventeen year old like he was some messiah. 

"Twenty points to Slytherin! Delilah if you keep up the good work, who knows what the future has to offer!" She smiled and forced a laugh. "Yeah, who knows." Elio looked at her with a questioning glance but shrugged it off. "Oh!" He said suddenly, causing not only Delilah to flinch but Abraxas as well. Tom simply glowered at him. "I've been meaning to ask, do you like Quidditch by any chance?" 

Before she could stop herself, a laugh left her lips and she quickly coughed. "Merlin, sorry I..." she laughed again and had to clear her throat. "I don't mind it. Why?" Upon further notice a light blush seemed to creep its way into Elio's cheeks. "Well, tryouts are being held this Friday and dear Abraxas," he made a point to glare at his blonde friend. "Is making everyone tryout again, so I was wondering if you'd like to, I don't know-pop by? If you want. I know most girls find it quite boring but-"

"Sure, that sounds lovely." She smiled at Elio reassuringly and the tension seemed to fall from his shoulders. "Great!" He beamed. Delilah turned to clean up her table and her gaze fell on Tom, who was flicking through a book rather lazily. "What about you, hm?" She asked and he looked up at her through thick lashes and, despite herself, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were hypnotic, she felt she could drown in them for an eternity. 

"What about me?" He asked and she gestured towards Elio and Abraxas. Who, to her amusement, were flicking random ingredients at each other. "Quidditch. Do you play?" He closed his book gently and his dark eyes bored into her, Delilah felt as if he'd tied a string around her throat and was luring her in. Her body was absentmindedly leaning against the table, an effort to be closer to him. "Occasionally." She'd only just noticed how deep of a baritone his voice was. It was smooth and charming, but had an underlying rasp to it that made her feel light headed. 

"So," Delilah shook her head, trying to get rid of whatever spell he seemed to have on her. Perhaps it was just his enigmatic aura, magic seemed to crackle around him. "Are you trying out?" She asked. A dry laugh shook his chest slightly. "I have no desire to be possibly thrown from a broom at over fifty feet in the air." Delilah felt her lips tug upward and the action didn't go unnoticed by Tom. His eyes only slightly narrowed, he racked his brain but couldn't find what could be so amusing. 

"Are you scared?" Her tone was teasing and he simply raised an elegant eyebrow at her. "Scared? Hardly. The sport in itself is barbaric and I see no wish to partake in it." Tom wasn't appreciating the amused glimmer in her eyes as she smiled at him. "Whatever you say." She hummed. If he were a lesser person, Tom was sure he'd be rolling his eyes by now. He had no time for her childish antics. 

"What position do you play?" Delilah asked Elio as they made their way to lunch. "I'm a chaser, Abraxas is Captain as well as seeker, Lestrange is a Chaser, and Avery is the keeper." She was actually quite excited to see how well Abraxas did. Harry was not only the youngest person to be allowed to play Quidditch but he was also insanely talented as a seeker.

As they sat down at the table, barely a minute passed before an arm draped itself over Tom's shoulders. He stiffened for only a moment before smiling. "Hello, Olive." He greeted kindly, though if one were to pay close enough attention you could hear the exasperation lacing his tone. "Tom, it's so good to be able to finally talk to you!" She leaned her body against his. Olive glanced across the table and she narrowed her eyes at the sight of Delilah. 

Confused, she smiled a bit awkwardly. "Afternoon, Olive. I love your hair." Delilah did actually admire how the girl got her hair to fall in elegant waves. She was never able to manage her messy mane of hair, it seemed to stay in a permanent state of frizz and tangles. Olive tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled smugly. "Why, thank you." She looked pointedly at Tom, who wasn't sparing her a second glance as he ate his food. 

A form sat down next to Delilah and she flinched. Looking over, Lolita have her a half hearted smile as she filled her plate. "Where've you been?" Delilah mused as she spotted how the girls usually perfect hair was slightly disbelieved-and were her shirt buttons mixed up? About five minutes later Avery also joined them and Delilah took notice of how his hair was messy as well and his tie was loose and crooked. Delilah looked between the two for nearly a minute before something on Lolita's neck caught her eye. Two love bites, hidden well by her hair. Delilah's mouth went slack as she looked between Lolita and Avery.

Were they...?

"You alright, love?" Elio asked, snapping her back into reality. "Yes, fine." She looked around the table incredulously. Did nobody else notice? It wasn't any of her business, she supposed. Perhaps it wasn't a secret at all. She's only been here two days. But even if was, it was obvious Avery and Lolita wanted to keep it under wraps. She watched the two for a bit longer and caught the glances they would steal at each other. It was rather adorable.


	6. Chapter Six

Friday arrived much quicker than Delilah had anticipated. Two meetings with Dumbledore took place, but to no avail was there any progress on how to get home. Both were still clueless as to how she even got to this time in the first place. Dumbledore has asked her to recount her steps the day she went to the Department of Mysteries time and time again. So far the only hunch he had was that whatever she'd been sent to retrieve could be a plausible cause. The problem was, Delilah wasn't exactly sure what the package was. It's was confidential and securely covered and was not to be opened until she returned to head quarters. 

Delilah made her way down to breakfast yawning every few seconds. For the past three days she's been having nightmares she can't remember. And to add on top of that, the dormitory was always empty when she woke up. Sitting down at the table, Olive was glaring at her and Lolita looked concerned. "What?" She yawned yet again as she filled her plate. "Are you alright?" Lolita asked. Delilah furrowed her brows and was about to reply when someone threw their arm over her shoulder. "Today's the day!" Elio said cheerfully and got met with a seething look from Olive. "What's your issue?" He asked the brunette and she nodded her head towards Delilah. "Ask your girlfriend, because of her I haven't been getting enough sleep." 

Elio turned towards Delilah, who had her cheeks flushed at being called Elio's girlfriend. "Don't look at me, I'm as much confused as you are." Lolita narrowed her eyes at Delilah. "Wait, you don't recall anything these last few nights?" Delilah shook her head and bit into some toast, feeling oddly warm with Elio practically pressed against her. "Er, no? Should I?" Lolita raised an eyebrow at Olive but the girl was too busy fawning over the newest addition to their table. Tom had arrived for breakfast. 

"You've been screaming your bloody lungs out. I cast a silencing charm but it wears out by morning so Olive and I just leave you alone." Delilah blinked at this newfound information. She'd been screaming in her sleep? She knew something was off. Every time she woke up, she felt oddly drained like she hadn't slept at all and her throat had been feeling raw. Delilah just assumed she might've been getting sick. 

A hand waved itself in front of her eyes and she shook her head. "Alright, Miss Pontmercy?" Tom asked as Elio tried to get her to snap out of it. "What? Oh yes, yeah. And again please just call me Delilah." Tom tilted his head slightly to the side as he observed her. She looked awful. Her skin was more sallow and circles seemed to be permanently hung under her eyes. "Are you well enough for watching tryouts?" Elio asked as he stole a piece of bacon off her plate. She glared at him but he simply smiled charmingly at her and she sighed. "Of course, I wouldn't think to miss it." 

"I can escort you to the field. I'll be catching up on some arithmancy homework, perhaps we could work on the essay together?" Tom offered. Delilah eyed him for a moment, he was weirdly helpful. And too nice. It was unnerving but his charm seemed to outweigh that notion. Tom was a different breed of nice. He wasn't like Luna, the good natured aura practically dripped off that girl. But Tom...it felt like he wanted something. She didn't know what exactly. Her mind immediately jumped to what most teenage boys want in return for helping a girl, but Delilah dismissed this. For the whole week that she's been here, as well as from what she heard, Tom never spared a glance at girl. And nearly half the school was willing to throw themselves at his feet. Perhaps he didn't have a motive? No, that was ridiculous. Everyone had a motive whether they were conscious of it or not. 

"Sure, that'd be lovely. Thank you." He smiled lightly and nodded once before returning to his breakfast. Delilah's eyes shifted to the side and found Olive looking at her with the most peculiar expression. The girl blinked once before eating her own food quietly, she wasn't even bothering to latch onto Tom as she usually did. How odd, Delilah concluded. 

Despite herself, she felt a sort of pity for Olive. She'd never mention this, no one wanted someone to pity them. Especially for unrequited love. It made her angry as she watched Tom dismiss Olive like she was a nuisance. True, Olive was a bit excessive when she tried to display her affections. But the least he could do was tell her he didn't return her feelings. Instead, he led her on in a sense. Delilah remembered yesterday in Transfigurations how she'd wanted to punch his stupid, beautifully handsome face. It was clear he didn't want to do what Dumbledore assigned. That was something else she noticed, there was a sort of tension between Tom and Dumbledore. She'd have to ask him about that soon. But Tom turned on his charming smile, softened his eyes, and lightly dragged his fingers down her arm as he asked her to do this one thing for him and how he'd greatly appreciate it. Delilah watched in a sort of fascination as Olive stumbled over her words and nodded, her eyes glazed over as she was drawn towards Tom. And then just after class he completely ignored poor Olives existence. 

Before she could stop herself, Delilah smiled at Olive. In turn, the girl eyed her suspiciously. "Olive, would you like to join us?" Tom looked up at Delilah in slight surprise but he quickly wiped his face blank. "I'm not in arithmancy." Delilah blinked at the girl and felt like smacking her. She thought she'd say yes right away. "Well, I have been struggling slightly in charms and you seem well versed on the course. I was wondering if you could help me?" That was a lie, Delilah was brilliant at charms. Tom knew this as well, he'd seen her marks and she was second in their class. Just below himself. Now Tom was looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "Why not just have Tom help you?" Olive said, suspension still gleaming in her eye. 

"For the love of bloody fu-fine. I just wanted to have girl time but since we barely know each other I thought it'd be too forward to simply ask." The group around her seemed taken aback by her sudden outburst. She blushed at her near swearing, forgetting it wasn't exactly proper for a lady to swear in the forties. Tom however, found it difficult to keep his lips from twitching upwards. He's caught her on more than one occasion cursing and it was rather amusing. 

The first time was when he saw in her the library that first morning. The second was when they were in the common room and she hit her hip against a table. Some, creative, words tumbled from her lips in a hiss. The third was when he'd accidentally bumped into her when turning a corner. Tom mused as he remembered her shocked face and, if he recalled correctly, she screamed "bloody fucking Merlin, Jesus fucking Christ you scared the living shit out of me." Luckily they were alone or else she'd most likely have a detention. And throughout other classes he could hear her mumble a few "fucks" and "damns". She swore more than Lestrange and that was saying something. 

"Oh." Olive said and it pulled Tom from his thoughts. "Well, if it's alright with you Tom." She turned to him and he looked at her for only a moment before looking at Delilah. What was she up to? It was obvious Olive didn't like her, so why invite her? He was slightly annoyed, he'd wanted a chance alone with Delilah to somehow coerce anything out of her. He had a clever way of catching someone in a lie, specifically, he had a clever way of catching a girl in a lie. A little flirting could only go so far and something was different about Delilah, so he had to tread carefully on how to approach the situation. Still, she was a female, and through experience nearly all of them were the same. But with Olive now attending with them this afternoon, it'd be halted. And he couldn't have that. 

"Of course, I'd be glad if you joined us." He smiled warmly at Olive and he felt disgust prick up his back as he watched her quite literally swoon. 

 

The afternoon approached far quicker than Delilah was ready for. Her hands were full with books and parchment as she stumbled her way up to the stands of the Quidditch field. Out of breath as she reached the stop, Delilah squinted around for two brunettes. Turning left she spotted Tom's dark curls falling over his forehand as he read a book. The wind was blowing softly and it ruffled the locks in a way that really wasn't fair. Shaking her head, Delilah made her way over to him. When she was about ten feet away she cleared her throat. 

He looked up in slight surprise and smiled warmly once his eyes landed on her. Delilah looked at him for just a second longer than necessary before clearing her throat. "May I sit?" His lips tugged up to the side in a smirk that would make the devil jealous. Merlin, he was too perfect. "Of course, I don't think any of the seats are taken." He gestured to the practically empty stands and Delilah blushed slightly. Once she got settled, she asked, "Do you know where Olive is? I thought she'd be here by now." 

Tom sighed slightly through his nose and shook his head, his eyes downcast as he closed the book he was reading. He put it away too quickly before Delilah could catch the title. "I am afraid she came down with a stomach virus. She should be fine by dinner though, Madam Fontaine is quite a talented Healer." He has his arms behind him as he leaned back, his head turned towards her, slightly tilted. Delilah swallowed as indiscreetly as she could as she fumbled for her arithmancy book. "That's a shame, er...shall we get started then?" 

Her hand shook as she flipped to the right page. What the hell was wrong with her? She's never gotten tripped up by a boy before. At least not this much. "Yes. I have already written a thesis on the chapter. You are welcome to take a look at it if you feel you are stuck." Delilah glanced at the parchment he had and glared at the elegant cursive. She could barely read her own handwriting most of the time. "I assume you've already read the chapter?" He asked as he watched her eyes skin over his thesis. The dark blue of her eyes flitted quickly across the page and her eyebrows rose slightly. 

He felt his lips tug up in a sort of smug smirk and she glared at him. "It's really not fair that you're brilliant." And attractive. But Delilah would keep that to herself. He plucked the paper lightly from her fingers and handed her one of his quills. Delilah was about to protest and say she had her own but her mouth hung open slightly. It was a beautiful quill. The feather was soft and not stiff to touch, it appeared to be a rich black but if the light hit the quill the right way you'd see a emerald green sheen. Before she could stop herself, she laughed. 

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, not understanding what could suddenly be so amusing. "Sorry," her hand covered her mouth in an attempt to stop herself and she settled for smiling. She felt like an idiot. "It's just my handwriting looks like chicken scratch and I'd feel like I would break the quill. It's gorgeous." Tom still held the quill by the tip with two fingers and she lightly dragged her own finger down the side of the soft feather. "Where'd you get it? I've never seen one like this before." 

Dark eyes were glued to her face, he was looking at her with a peculiar glimmer in his eye. "It was a gift." He said simply. He'd gotten it from Abraxas' father the previous Christmas, but Tom didn't see why he'd need to mention it. Delilah was about to open her mouth when someone called out to them. 

Turning around, Elio was on his broom and hovering in front of the stands. "Delilah, you made it." He smiled widely at her as she made her way over to him. Tom felt annoyance prick up his sides but pushed it down as he too made his way over. Delilah leaned on the banister and looked down, her stomach dropping slightly at how high they were. "Weathers perfect, this should be an easy tryout. It's still ridiculous Abraxas is making everyone retry." Elio made a point to glare at the platinum blonde who was down on the ground. 

"You'll do great, although I haven't seen you play yet. Don't fall off and break your face or something, that'd be a shame." Delilah bit her lip as she cringed at her rant. "Would it?" Elio mused with his own charming smirk. In the depths of her mind though she couldn't help but compare it to Tom's. Delilah rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly. "You know what I mean, don't let your ego inflate." As she pushed him, he pretended to almost fall off his broom and Delilah screamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tanking him towards her. Her heart was beating frantically but Elio's laughter met her ears and she glared at him. "Don't do that!" Delilah's voice was a pitch higher than usual and he simply smiled at her. Elio tugged on the hand that was still gripping his shirt and placed a light kiss on her knuckles. "Wish me luck," with a wink he was off. 

Delilah was sure her face was redder than a rose and she was suddenly aware Tom was beside her. His face was blank as he watched Elio fly down to Abraxas. "So," she cleared her throat and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He inclined his head down to her and she leaned back a bit, only just noticing how much taller he was than her. "We should get to work on that essay." Tom nodded and gestured for her to lead the way but she shook her head. "I'm wearing a skirt, eyes front, sir." His eyebrows furrowed down at Delilah and something stirred in his chest, it was a foreign feeling. "My eyes are always front." Nonetheless he walked first and Delilah mused to herself as she followed him. 

“Mine aren't.” She muttered. Although Tom didn’t indicate he heard her, her quiet voice easily reached his ears and he smirked.


	7. Chapter Seven

October arrived with no shortage of stress. Albeit the classes were significantly easier than the courses in the nineties, but the professors weren't lenient on homework. 

Delilah gracelessly sat down at the Slytherin table during lunch, a yawn passing her lips as she reached for a sandwich. "Did you even sleep last night? You weren't at breakfast." Elio asked as he observed the circles growing more prominent under her eyes. "She wasn't in the dormitory last night either." Lolita shot her a suggestive smile. Delilah was too exhausted to blush and she simply glared at the girl. "If you must know, I spent quite the romantic night with my alchemy textbook." 

Avery took a bite of his own food, not caring to close his mouth as he spoke. "I don't see why you push yourself so much, you're second in class next to Riddle. If you're trying to beat him you'll die of sleep deprivation." Lolita scowled in disgust as she could clearly see the food Avery was chewing. "Merlin, eat with your mouth shut." Avery turned his eyes on Lolita and simply smiled at her, still not bothering to close his mouth. Delilah hid a knowing smile at the pair behind another yawn. 

"I'm not trying to beat Riddle, I've realized that would be near impossible and I quite like my sanity. I'd be at my wits end if I tried to surpass him." She muttered. "Is that so, Pontmercy? You appear to be perspicacious, I would not like to see you cut yourself short." Tom said as he sat down, looking as eloquent as ever. Delilah growled silently to herself. He was in the library nearly as late as she was, yet he got a better mark on his essay and he didn't appear to be the least bit tired. It was annoying how perfect he was. She was also irritated at his seeming refusal to call her by her first name. No matter how many times Delilah asked. So in turn, she resolved to calling him Riddle. Not that he appeared to care. 

"Halloween is next week." Lestrange piped up, a fond smile on his face. He'd been talking incessantly about the special treats Honeydukes would have for the holiday. Delilah nearly forgot it was even a thing celebrated. These past few years it was completely ignored, plus with the added weight of it being the anniversary of Harry's parents' deaths. Delilah shivered suddenly as a wave of melancholy hit her. 

Her patience was wearing thin, which was never a good thing. She'd been meeting with Dumbledore three times a week to figure out not only how to get back to her time, but how she even arrived in 1943 in the first place. But to no avail has a solution arose. Delilah's heart ached to see her friends and family again. There's been countless times where she'd slump weakly against the wall in a hidden corridor. It was like the universe was teasing her with a mourning, like she'd already lost. It was like she really was dead, her life left behind. 

It got bad one evening, just last week. It was her older brothers birthday, and the fear of never seeing his stupid face again nearly made her blackout. She locked herself in an abandoned classroom and screamed till her lungs gave out. Delilah couldn't cry. A trait she was usually contempt with but now it felt like a burden. Crying would've been a release, but her body and mind refused. 

"Speaking of Halloween," Elio trailed and looked nervous as he glanced between Delilah and Lestrange. The latter of which giving him an encouraging nod. A twinge of pink started to grow in the boys cheeks and Delilah raised an eyebrow, wondering what was getting him so flustered. "Delilah, would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend?" Elio asked. Delilah was about to say yes, but Elio began speaking quickly in a mess of words. 

"You don't have to of course. If you're busy, that's fine. Of course you're probably busy, you're brilliant and will probably be studying. Unless someone already asked you, then that's fine too. Actually, it's likely someone already did ask you. I mean, you are lovely. I was stupid to assume no one had asked you yet-why are you smiling at me like that?" 

Delilah was biting her lip harshly as she attempted not to laugh. Elio's face was twinged pink and he'd been running a hand through his already messy hair throughout his entire rant. "No, I'm not busy. No, no one has asked me yet. Yes, I will go with you to Hogsmeade." She stated and could visibly see relief as well as embarrassment fill his features. He cleared his throat and turned back to his plate, refusing to look at her. "Right then, lovely." 

An amused smirk appeared on Delilah's face and she patted Elio on the back. "Don't brood, your rambling was rather entertaining." 

"More like annoying." Olive said as she sat down next to Tom. It was clear the brunette still didn't like Delilah, but in the past month and a half they seemed to reach a cease fire. "Tom, do you have a date to Hogsmeade?" Olive asked him and he didn't look as her as he flicked through his Potions notes. "No, I do not." He said politely, but it didn't sound like an invite to ask him either. 

A date? Delilah blinked at Elio before turning to Lolita. In a low whisper she asked, "did I agree to a date with Elio?" Lolita raised an eyebrow at her, as if she was stupid. "Yes, I thought that was quite obvious. Do you not want it to be a date?" Delilah shifted in her seat and she'd suddenly lost her appetite. Her eyes wandered over to the staff table to see Dumbledore in deep discussion with Kettleburn and frowned as she thought back to a meeting they had two days ago. 

She was just about to leave his office when he called after her. "Miss Pontmercy." He said calmly, although his tone had undercurrents of seriousness. "Yes, sir?" Delilah walked back to stand in front of his desk and felt see through all of the sudden as his eyes pierced hers. "I know you probably do not need to hear this, however it is important I stress the point." Delilah furrowed her brows at him but nodded. "Now, I realize it is inevitable for you to become... attached, in a sense if you are here for a prolonged time. But I warn you that it'll be dangerous if you allow yourself to fall in too deep. Whether it be platonic love; that of friendship, which is a strong force. Or that of romance." A blush crept its way up her neck and Delilah cleared her throat. "I assure you, that will most definitely not happen." Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. "We don't choose who we love, nor can we choose when it happens. Reason and love keep little company together. Nevertheless I urge you to be cautious. When the time arrives for you to return home, you might be hesitant to leave those who you've grown close to behind." 

Delilah chewed numbly on her sandwich. That conversation had been rattling in her mind constantly. She wasn't worried, but Dumbledore seemed to be. How could she possibly fall in love? She hadn't in the seventeen years she's been alive. Her chest tugged at the thought of Blaise. But no. She didn't love him, not in a romantic sense, Delilah thought she did at first. But it had been simple infatuation with each other. And after one night of ridiculous teenage hormones and an empty hallway, they decided to remain as close friends. So why would she suddenly fall victim now? Although the universe did seem to be against her lately. 

At the thought, she turned her gaze to Elio. He seemed to calm down from his awkward ramble, currently arguing with Abraxas on which strategy they should use in the upcoming Quidditch match. He was endearing, and kind, and sweet. Delilah thought she could date someone like him, it would be simple and small. Something to pass the time. Having someone she could lean on would be nice. Delilah suddenly scowled at herself. Was she really that selfish? Elio clearly seemed to like her as more than a friend. Perhaps, in time she would feel the same way. But how much longer she'd even be in this time was unknown. It would be cruel to lead Elio on. What if they did start dating, and all was going well, and Delilah fell for him. And then Dumbledore would waltz in and say he could get her home. What would she do then? If she left, Elio could be left with a broken heart and a feeling of betrayal. If Delilah stayed, she'd be giving up seeing her entire family again and all of her friends. Just to stay with her lover. 

No, she wouldn't fall for him. But one date wouldn't hurt. 

 

____________________

 

Later that evening, just after dinner, Olive marched up to Tom with purpose in every step. Lestrange eyed her with slight amusement as she stopped in front of their group, the fire casting in her in a bright orange glow. Nearly a minute passed and Tom still didn't look at her. 

Delilah watched from the other side of the room and had the urge to throw a pillow at Tom. It baffled her that he had such a good reputation. Sure, he was all charm and glamor, but for the most part he certainly wasn't polite. Without consciously knowing it, Delilah found herself observing him. His mannerisms were near to none. He had no defining traits beside the smirk he seemed to always be sporting. Either that, or his blank slate. Tom just seemed...void. There was nothing to him. 

Of course he had his intellect. Delilah hadn't seen someone so brilliant before, save for Dumbledore. And he had his handsome looks to help him along. But take that away and what was left? He was like an empty shell of a person and it unnerved her. She remembered something from a book she read, probably two years ago. It was a muggle book Hermione lent her called East Of Eden. "There's responsibility in being a person. It's more than just taking up space where air should be." Yes, that described the predicament Delilah felt towards Tom. He was all smiles, and Merlin were they breathtaking, but they were empty. The same couldn't be said for his eyes however. Though Delilah wasn't sure if the warmness was genuine, they were always calculating. There was a light behind his dark eyes, a light indicating he was something unique and different, and he was proud. 

"Tom, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?" Olive asked. Slowly, Tom looked at her. She wasn't putting on her usual flirtatious manner, which was something odd and highly out of character. But, nonetheless was it appreciated. Tom was revolted by Olive. The constant batting of her eyelashes and her incessant giggling made him want to throw her off the astronomy tower. Not that she was different from all the other girls who've made advances on him. He inclined his head once. "That would be lovely Olive, of course." Olive seemed to light up, she'd fully been expecting him to say no. 

Delilah felt relief tug at her sides. Tom was awful to Olive. She was a bit annoyed however, how come he called Olive by her first name? 

Someone sat down beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders. She tensed for a moment but realized it was Elio smiling down at her. "Poor girl, she's got nerves though. Riddle usually declines her offers." Delilah hummed as her eyes drifted back to Olive, who now had a pleasant rosiness to her cheeks. "He better not fuck up their date." She muttered. Elio chuckled, his curls moving with the shake of his head. "You've certainly got a mouth in you. You swear more than Pyrrhus." 

"Someone call?" Lestrange shoved his body between Delilah and Elio and threw an arm around both of them. "No you git." Elio tried to shove him off the couch but Lestrange wouldn't budge. "Listen," he began. "You know Cosett? The Ravenclaw in our Defense Against the Dark Arts class?" Elio shook his head, but Delilah nodded. "Yeah, why?" Lestrange seemed to perk up and he turned towards her, promptly hitting Elio in the head with his arm. 

"Oh good, listen I need to know if she has a date yet. Can you ask her?" Delilah scoffed and eyed him over, not taking Lestrange to be one too scared to ask a girl out. "Why can't you do it?" He rolled his eyes and a frustrated sigh left his lips. "I've tried, but every time I walk up to her she walks away." Delilah raised an eyebrow. An amused smile reached her lips as she pictured the Ravenclaw pointedly shooting down the usually cocky Lestrange. "If she won't even talk to you, why one earth would you expect her to say yes to a date? If she doesn't have one already, that is." 

Lestrange glared at her and Delilah sighed. "Fine, yeah I'll ask her tomorrow." Lestrange smiled brightly and kissed her on the cheek. A blush raced up her neck as she blinked at him. When Lestrange turned around, he saw the glare Elio was shooting him and rolled his eyes. "Oh alright." He leaned over and kissed Elio on the cheek as well, getting off the couch before his friend could hit him. Despite her efforts, Delilah giggled and Elio smiled fondly down at her. 

 

_______________

 

The day of Hogsmeade approached, and Lolita was scowling down at Delilah. "Come on, get up." She prodded her in the side but Delilah smacked her hand away. "Shove off, we have like three hours till we have to leave." Her voice was muffled by the pillow she had her face shoved into. "Yes, and those three hours are needed to get ready." 

Delilah lifted her head, the task more difficult than it needed to be. "Why in Merlin's beard do we need three hours?" It'd been ages since Delilah actually had to dress up for something. Due to the tight schedule of the Order and the constant threat of Voldemort leering over them, Delilah was used to always wearing a pair of old jeans, a sweatshirt, and her trainers. Plus the school uniform, she supposed. The last time she wore makeup was for Fleur and Bill's wedding. 

"You're joking?" Lolita said, but scoffed at the blank look on Delilah's face. With a set jaw, Lolita grabbed onto Delilah's ankles and yanked her off the bed. She squealed and landed with a thud, a string of curses following afterward. "I'm up, bloody hell." As she stood up and stretched, a dress was thrown at her. "What's this?" Delilah asked but Lolita had already shut the bathroom door. Looking over at Olive, she had a nice blue dress on with black velvet robes draped over her shoulders. Delilah saw her mutter an incantation that smoothed out her hair. She wondered if she should do that to her own, but thought against it. If she messed up, her hair would be even wilder than it already was. 

Sighing, Delilah slipped into the dress but scowled at her reflection in the mirror. "There is no way in hell i'm wearing this, 'Lita." She called and her friend peered open the bathroom door, her makeup half done. Lolita eyed Delilah over, a smile quirking up her lips. "Why not? You look great." 

"We're going to Hogsmeade, not the the Minister's ball." She deadpanned and looked back at the dress she was wearing. It was a deep red, Delilah assumed it was made of silk and probably more expensive than all the clothes she owned. It was well fitted at the top and flowed out at her waist, ending just a few inches above her ankles. She guessed it was probably charmed to fit whoever wore it, either that or Lolita knew her size. "Well, you don't have any other dress robes. So suck it up and wear the bloody dress. Red looks good on you. Feel free to borrow a pair of shoes." Lolita gestured towards her trunk before shutting the door. 

Delilah scowled, but she didn't make a move to change. Walking over to her friends trunk, she picked a pair of white heels at random. Grabbing a light robe incase the autumn breeze became too cold, she made her way down to the common room. 

Barely anyone was there, some were still sleeping or at breakfast. Delilah silently cursed Lolita for waking her up so early. Nearly an hour passed and people filed out of the common room, couples meeting up as they went. Lolita and Olive eventually came down, arguing as usual. "You didn't even do your makeup." Olive observed. Delilah shrugged and raised an eyebrow at the glare Lolita was giving her. "You're no fun." 

Ignoring the look she was receiving, she asked "are you meeting your dates here? I know you're going with Riddle, who're you going with 'Lita?" Lolita barley let a blush appear and she straightened her back. "We're meeting down at Hogsmeade." With that she left the common room and Delilah rolled her eyes. She knew she was going with Avery but the girl obviously wanted it kept secret. How Lolita and Avery were going to sneak around the village was a long shot, but they seemed determined enough. 

Olive was about to reply but smiled at something behind Delilah. "Morning, Tom." She sighed a bit breathlessly. Delilah turned around and felt her own breath catch in her throat. Tom was in a nice, dark, casual suit and had a jacket hanging over one arm. "Good morning Olive, Pontmercy." He nodded his head in her direction. Delilah got her wits about her and attempted not to glare at him. She didn't bother asking him to say her name anymore, seeing as it proved to be fruitless. "Morning, Riddle. Will Elio be down soon?" 

"He asked me to inform you he'll meet you at the entrance hall before everyone departs for Hogsmeade." With that he held out his other arm for Olive, who took it immediately as she smiled up at him lovingly. Delilah watched with a hidden grimace as she saw Tom ignore her. With that, they departed from the common room leaving Delilah alone on the couch.


	8. Chapter Eight

Students had already started to depart for Hogsmeade as Delilah leaned against the wall, watching couple by couple leave. She wasn’t mad at Elio for being late, in all honestly she just wanted to crawl back into bed. 

She watched as third years bustled with excitement, the village still being a new adventure for them. The sudden realization she had no money dawned on Delilah and she cursed. “God dammit.” She kicked the wall lazily in a huff, she was at least looking forward to buying some pepper imps from Honeydukes but now she couldn’t even do that. 

“Delilah!” She turned at the sound and saw Elio making his way down the main staircase, taking two at a time. “Sorry I’m late, Dumbledore asked me to give this to you.” He handed her a small satchel that was a deep purple, and was decently heavy. Peering into the bag, her eyes widened at the amount of money inside. Of course Dumbledore knew. Delilah felt the sudden urge to hug that man but she was too afraid to do so, he’s done so much for her. Closing the bag with a smile, she took the arm Elio was offering. 

As they made their way down to Hogsmeade, Elio kept looking at her. “You look lovely.” He finally said, it took him a few minutes to muster up the courage to compliment her. “Thank you, you do too. Loving the green get up.” Elio was wearing a suit somewhat similar to Tom’s. She cursed herself mentally. She’d been comparing a lot of things to Tom lately. But Elio’s suit wasn’t monochromatically black, it had green undertones stitched into the shirt in a delicate design. 

“I don’t know my way around Hogsmeade,” she lied. Delilah actually knew of a few secret passageways between the castle and the village. She was also sure she was the only one who knew Dumbledore’s brother Aberforth, owned the Hogs Head Inn. “No worries,” Elio assured. “I think we’ll start with Honeydukes, that treat shop everyone talks about. Then I thought we could pop into a few different stores just to see what you like, and then after the Three Broomsticks. Have you ever had butterbeer?” Delilah shook her head and nearly laughed at the horrified expression on his face. “Merlin, how you’ve lived this long without it baffles me.” 

Reaching Honeydukes, Elio held the door open for Delilah and she smiled at him. She practically made a beeline for the pepper imps as soon as she saw them stacked against the wall. “You like those?” A new voice said from beside her. Turning, she saw Abraxas with his nose scrunched up at the sight of the candy. “They’re the best. Not only do they taste like peppermint, but you breath fire!” Her tone was excited but Abraxas simply raised a brow. “Oh c’mon, they’re cool.” She was about to put one in her mouth to demonstrate but he quickly grabbed her hand. “I’d rather not have my hair singed off, thank you.” 

Halfheartedly narrowing her eyes, she threw the sweets in her shopping bag before looking for the sugar quills. As she turned down one of the isles, a head of fiery red hair caught her eye and she gasped. “Ron?” The boy turned to look at her with a puzzled expression. A boy who was most definitely not Ron. Delilah scolded herself and muttered an apology before shuffling away. A sudden ache in her chest began to grow. Elio said he wanted to visit Zonko’s, but she didn’t think she could manage. Delilah would just think of Fred and George the entire time, which would put her in a glum mood. Something she didn’t want Elio to suffer through. 

Finally finding the sugar quills, she reached for one but another hand got to it before her. Turning, she nearly fell over her own feet as she tried to step back. Tom was oddly close. “How are you finding Hogsmeade, Pontmercy?” He asked, his tone one of polite interest. Though Delilah was sure he couldn’t care less. “Lovely, so far.” A slow disdain was building for the boy next to her as she plucked two sugar quills and put them in her basket. Tom twirled the one he had grabbed around his fingers, similar to how he usually twirled his wand. 

Delilah suddenly blushed as she remembered trying to copy the movement one night. She dropped her wand on the ground nearly twelve times before she gave up. Bloody Tom Riddle. Did he have to do everything correctly? “Yes. Olive is enjoying herself, I hope?” Delilah didn’t know why she was attempting to make conversation, but she rarely had the chance to speak to him on his own. 

“I would like to say so.” He indicated towards Olive, who was picking treats as she pleased. Delilah assumed Tom had offered to pay. “And are you enjoying yourself?” He’d already asked the question, but she deflected it. Much to his annoyance. “Yes, I think so. I’ve got my two favorite treats. And Elio’s been raving about butterbeer. It’s a lovely village.” Tom nods, interest shining his his eyes that’s false, but convincing. That inkling of dislike crept up Delilah’s spine. 

But he hasn’t necessarily done anything. 

And that’s what made her dislike him. She was confused by Tom Riddle, and his last name was all too much a coincidence. She was never sure around him, he was intimidating in his own sense. He walked with a certain stride, with power high on his shoulders. Yet he was kind and brilliant. But it was like he was too aware. His actions look natural, but they didn’t feel natural. Tom was too calculated. Delilah wouldn’t have noticed this, but she recognized it in herself. He was hiding something, just like she was. But what on earth would a person like Tom have to hide? 

That got the curiosity burning in her veins. He was handsome, charming, polite and well versed. He could probably talk circles around anyone who challenged him. 

It was breathtaking to watch him in Defense Against the Dark Arts when they got to duel. His movements were quick and graceful. His wand held lightly, as if he was conducting music and not magic. Tom had natural talent. Delilah would watch with careful eyes, breaking down his movements. He was light on his feet, his face passive. Tom was like a predator calmly stalking through tall grass, ten steps ahead of his prey. 

In a way, Delilah supposed, he was terrifying. Tom was electric, charismatic, a magnet everyone was drawn to. But his skill and knowledge provide him with the upper hand, he held all the cards. In the last month, Delilah had observed how the school seemed to be bent to his will. He could smile and professors would move aside, and with a simple glance he could silence, and with his words...she’s seen the way Lestrange’s hands tremble. The way Elio never looks Tom in the eye. The way Abraxas’ jaw ticked. The way Avery seemed to shrink in on himself when Tom said his name. 

Perhaps one of Tom’s greatest weapons was his tongue, not just his wand. 

“I have a question.” Her voice surprised her, and perhaps it surprised Tom as well. But he didn’t show it. Delilah’s jaw stiffened. He never showed anything. He nodded his head once, as if giving her permission to continue. “Why’s the password Ouroboros?” Something about it bothered her. She knew faintly about it, and she’s seen the symbol. A shiver ran down her spine. Ah yes, it reminded her of the Dark Mark. 

“Do you know of the meaning?” He asked, eying her for a moment. She was a strange creature. Her eyes unsettled him. The dark royal blue glinted as if they knew something he didn’t, they looked like they knew too much. And not many things could unsettle Tom Riddle. The only other person who had eyes like that was Dumbledore. Delilah slightly shook her head, “I have a vague understanding, but do enlighten me.” 

Tom surveyed her for another moment before gesturing towards the door. Her eyebrows furrowed and she began to protest. “I should wait for Elio-“

“He will know where to find us.” Tom led her to the counter, bodies quickly moving out of the way for him. Delilah awkwardly smiled at a few of them, as a silent apology. Before she realized it, Tom took her shopping basket from her hands and paid for her treats. “Riddle, you didn’t need to do that.” He simply handed her the bag of newly purchased treats and she shifted on her feet. “But thanks.” He nodded and made for the door, not knowing what to do, she followed. 

They were already walking through the front door of the Three Broomsticks when Delilah remembered he should be with Olive. But here she was, following whatever silent command Tom issued. Annoyed with herself, she grumpily sat down across from him. They were in the back corner, decently secluded and Delilah felt they were too close all of the sudden. 

The smell of him was intense and inviting, drawing her in, making her want more. The smell of parchment greeted her first, it was crisp and familiar. Next came the smell of something sweet she longed to have, but couldn’t grasp. And then...was that cigarettes she smelt? Delilah shook her head at herself, Tom doesn’t look like the type. Of course, he was complex. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was his vice. 

He ordered two butterbeers, and the warm tankards were soon in their hands. “Ouroboros is an ancient symbol derived from Egyptian iconography.” He began, his tone even and clear. Delilah rested her chin in her palm, he had her full attention. “The symbol entered Western culture via the Greek Magical Tradition, and was adopted in Gnosticism and Hermeticism, notably in alchemy.” Tom felt rather satisfied at how she was acting towards him. Delilah was leaning forward in her seat, like he was breaking her down with his words devine and they’d save her. He wanted her to always look like that when she had her eyes on him. Delilah was always too guarded, he couldn’t read her. Her dark blue gaze always narrowed slightly in unclear suspicion. Note, Tom did find it rather amusing. She always looked a bit confused not only at him, but at herself. He had the sudden urge to know what she thought of him. What could make her seem so conflicted?

“The usual aim of alchemists can be described as individual self-perfection through physical transmutation and spiritual transcendence, with a focus on the eternal unity of all things as well as the cycle of birth and death. Which is what most alchemist seek to liberate. Take Nicolas Flamel for example with the Sorcerer's Stone.” He was testing her. Testing her knowledge. He was intrigued by how she was second in their class, her marks just below his. 

“So,” Delilah said slowly. Her suspension was proved correct, though she wasn’t sure if she was glad if this. “Are we talking immortality?” 

So she knows of the stone, which is interesting. A vast majority of the wizarding world don’t even know if its existence, or they simply don’t acknowledge it. Tom nodded, “in a sense.” Delilah had to force herself to drink the butterbeer in order to hide a grimace. So it was exactly like the Dark Mark. 

“The symbol shows a snake eating its own tail. There is not a beginning, nor is there an end. Not really. It is about overcoming death. The snake eats its own end, ceasing death from ever being a possibility.”

Delilah was quiet, Tom watched as she ran a nail up and down the side of her tankard. Her eyes seemed to fog over, lost in the thoughts of her always moving brain. “So it’s creating an infinity within itself.” She blinked at the nearly pleased expression that rippled across his features. She huffed a dry laugh as a finger traced a dent in the wood table. “A death eater.” Her voice was barely audible, her whisper just barely reaching his ears. 

He was genuinely pleased Delilah understood. Tom imagined having this discussion with Olive and he nearly shuddered. His words would have landed on empty ears and blank eyes with fluttering lashes. 

“Slytherins are quite conspicuous.” Delilah mused. Leaving to this house to find an in-depth symbol of a snake, it was like a silent warning of the future. 

“Del!” Someone called. Confused, Delilah turned around to see Lolita striding towards her, followed by the rest of her new friend group. She spotted Elio, who smiled at her warmly. A tinge of guilt stirred in her stomach. Then her eyes landed on Olive, who didn’t look as furious as she was expecting. Though as the girl looked between Tom and Delilah, she was clearly displeased. But she didn’t seem surprised. 

“Del?” Delilah questioned with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, it’s your nickname. You’ve been calling me ‘Lita, so I thought it only fair.” Delilah shrugged, not seeing a point to argue. Elio sat next to her and threw an arm over the back of her chair. She felt bad for leaving him, way more than was probably necessary. She offered him her tankard, “butterbeer is atrocious.” Delilah kept her tone straight and scrunched up her nose in feigned disgust. Elio’s eyebrows shot up and he looked offended. “How in the name of Merlin-“

“I’m kidding.” She smiled brightly at him, a smile she usually reserved. A smile she also hasn’t had the privilege to use in nearly two years. It hurt her cheeks, but Elio’s eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed, and it was worth it. “It’s delicious, you were right, I don’t know how I lived all these years without it.” 

As they walked back to Hogwarts, Elio and Delilah trailed behind the group. Remnants of laughter were still on Delilah’s lips. Elio had been attempting to hold her hand but clearly didn’t know how to go about it. “You’re such a charmer, how the girls of Hogwarts are sane baffles me.” She mused and he sent her a halfhearted glare. “It’s not my fault you make me nervous.” Delilah felt her smile soften. “Why on earth would I make you nervous?” 

Elio thought for a long moment, his eyes watching the slow fall of leaves as he tried to find the right words. Elio recalled the first Quidditch game of the year. Slytherin against Hufflepuff. Confidence in his own skill came easy to him, but when he walked out he instantly spotted a gleam of gold amid a sea of green and silver. And there she was. Clad in emerald green, her cheeks flushed, wind rustling her wild hair, and eyes alight as she waved at him, a cheerful yell on her lips. He was completely captivated by Delilah. She’s captured something of his. Whether it was just his attention or his heart, he didn’t know. Elio wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. But one thing was for certain. 

“You take my breath away, Delilah.” His tone was set and true, an honesty gleamed in his pale green eyes. It was a brash decision, but Delilah found herself tugging on his arm to bring him closer and she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the information about Ouroboros on wiki, super insightful! I learned about it last year in English and I couldn’t help but see similarities with the Dark Mark.


	9. Chapter Nine

Two days after Delilah kissed Elio, he’d made a point to hold her hand whenever he could. He always fought down a shiver, her skin was cold to the touch. Delilah wasn’t sure how she felt, she wasn’t even sure why she kissed him. It was a fleeting moment, Elio was saying sweet things and the autumn wind was ruffling his curls. She didn’t even know if she liked him more than a friend. The kiss wasn’t something you’d see in a romantic muggle film. There was no tension, no intense buzz in her ears, or ache in her chest. There was a slight tug in her stomach, so she latched onto that feeling. Whether it be to spare Elio’s feelings or hers, she didn’t know. 

They kissed here and there, light pecks. Elio was fond of placing a kiss atop her head every morning. He didn’t advance forward and take initiative. He’d never been in a relationship before, Elio didn’t know if this was even considered a relationship. It didn’t feel like it. They went on one date, which wasn’t much. And she kissed him, and they held hands. Delilah would kiss him on the cheek at night, an antithesis of his morning pecks. 

But it was nice. Things were going slow and he didn’t mind, everything else in his life moved so quickly he felt he could never firmly grasp it. Images and people would blur, but Delilah was clear and visible. But annoyance was growing towards Tom. He kept pushing-no, it was more like an order. Find more information about her, see if she’s hiding anything. Elio wanted to go at his own pace but Tom wasn’t letting him. 

He was studying Delilah instead of the front board, not caring what Dumbledore was having to say at the moment. He didn’t mind the man, Tom despised him. Dumbledore wasn’t thick headed like a majority of the professors, he didn’t eat out of Tom’s hand, he treated him like anyone else. And that alone was enough to piss Tom off. Because he wasn’t like anyone else. 

As Elio looked at her, he felt that breathless delight returning to him. The way the light made her golden hair have different hues. The way her nose would scrunch if she didn’t understand something. And every few minutes she’d tug at the skin on her lips. Her hands always seemed to be moving, either messing with her quill, wand, robes, or anything else. Either that or she’d tap her foot in a quick rhythm. Elio noticed she tended to flinch a little. At a sudden sound or quick shadow, her hand would inch towards her wand, but then her shoulders would relax after a moment. Sensing she wasn’t in danger. 

What could she be afraid of? Why was she so alert? 

Elio hated Tom for putting these questions in his head. But he was curious. Whether he liked it or not, Tom was right. Delilah was too guarded, always on edge, she reminded him of Tom. Though she wasn’t as good at hiding it. Tom hid his suspicion through graceful steps and chin held high. 

_______________________________________

It was off putting to have her birthday arrive all the sudden, it felt wrong and strange. Her birthday had already passed in her time, she’d been seventeen for ten months. But November seventh had arrived in 1943, so was she seventeen or eighteen? Technically, it didn’t account for anything. But Delilah felt like a stranger in her own body, trying not to acknowledge the current date. Noted, she hadn’t celebrated her birthday since she was fourteen. Life had been too hectic and cruel to allow such a break. So she kept her mouth quiet, a feat that was quite easy, but a strange dizziness filled her head. 

“What’s on your mind?” Dumbledore asked, leaned back in his chair with his half moon spectacles perched. Delilah blinked, a flush creeping up her neck. She’d forgotten where she was for a moment. “It’s my birthday today, technically. But I still have another two months to go on the natural clock.” His eyes twinkled a bit brighter, his lips quirking into a smile. “Well, happy technical birthday Delilah.” He conjured a bowl of lemon drops, offering her however many she liked. “Sir,” She began, two candies in her mouth. 

“Have you gotten any further with why I’m here? I’ve tried to read up as much as possible on different means of time travel. But it doesn’t make sense. The spell that hit me was the killing curse, so that wouldn’t cause anything. And the only object I had on my person was the package.” Dumbledore let out a slow, calm breath and hummed lightly. Delilah could see the gears turning in his head, bright blue eyes glinting. 

“Are you positive you’ve told me everything you know concerning the package?” He asked. She let out her own breath, though it wasn’t calm. Annoyance ticked at her jaw, they’ve gone over this hundreds of times. “Yes, I wasn’t allowed to know what it was.” 

“How’d you know how to find it?” Dumbledore’s tone became sharper and he leaned forward, maybe he got something. 

“I-“ Delilah’s eyebrows furrowed. How did she knew how to find it? The only thing The Order told her was it was in the Department of Mysteries. But somehow, she just knew. How come she never acknowledged that? “I don’t know. I just knew. I felt it, I guess. I was drawn to it, not like a voice or anything, and maybe not even like a magnet either. It felt familiar somehow. Now that I think about it, the package was rather warm.” 

“Did you feel anything else? Emotionally, perhaps?” Delilah turned her gaze to Fawkes, the gaze in its eyes all too clever for a bird. His wings were a vibrant red, with gold and orange undertones shimmering. Like a calm fire waiting to erupt. She dug through her memory, trying to piece together all that happened the night of her death. 

She tried to remember the feel of the smooth, yet stiff parchment that was wrapped around the small box. Not light, nor heavy, it was weightless. The moment Delilah saw it, a yearning desire burned deep in her heart, an insatiable hunger, a flame she needed to control. But she didn’t want to. It was as if a siren was calling out to her, “take the box! You’ll die if you don’t take the box!” But there was no voice, the air was silent besides the slight pant of her lips. A painful ache was hollowing out her chest-but then she touched it. Delilah felt whole, like a piece of her was reunited. Like apart of her was astray, something she didn’t even know she lost in the first place. 

“Longing.” Somehow that one word summed up how she felt that night. Voldemort should’ve frightened her more, but she had the package with her, and she felt almost calm. The only reason she screamed was because he cast the crutiacious curse on her. For how long, she didn’t know. The pain seemed to stretch for an eternity, and then it stopped. Before she could even catch her breath, the sound of his voice hissed two words. Just two. Then there was a beautiful shimmer of green, and she was dead. She nearly laughed at how simple it all sounded. 

With just two words and a simple movement, someone had the power to wipe another from existence. 

Delilah shuddered. 

After her meeting she walked down some random hall, the ceiling was lower and the floors significantly more dusty, indicating it wasn’t well known. Delilah found her feet taking her to a window, the chill breeze barely getting through the cracks. Laughter was ringing down below, a brother and sister were rough housing and Delilah felt her stomach drop. 

What she would give to just look at Harrison. A pang of guilt strung harshly in her chest. So much had been happening the last two months, Delilah barely thought about her parents. It wasn’t the best family, albeit she wasn’t even that close to her parents. They fought constantly, they didn’t share similar views, and her mother was always finding a way to criticize her. Victoria, her mother, had sharp hazel eyes that sent a chill when she narrowed them. Delilah found more comfort in her father Marcel, but his job at the Ministry set a distance between them. 

She felt strange all of the sudden, something felt wrong. But she didn’t know what. Her body became frail and a shock wave of an ache shot through her nerves, dulling her senses and making Delilah feel dizzy. “Pontmercy?” She spun at the sound, a mistake on her part. Her vison swam and Delilah did her best to focus, to not give away anything was wrong. A tall dark figure came into view, as well as dark eyes. “Afternoon, Riddle.” Speaking shouldn’t have been such an effort, her jaw and tongue grew tired with just two words. Her body tilted a bit too far on one side and she stumbled, quickly trying to right herself. But Tom wasn’t an idiot, much to her annoyance. 

“Is anything the matter?” His head was tilted to the side. The action was small, but her body was swaying slightly in all directions. Her breathing was shallow, the tension shown in the tendons on her neck. Delilah’s eyes are what mainly gave it away, her pupils were shrunken so small, the lighter center of her iris was revealed, it was rather off putting. He was used to the deep royal blue, now they shone clearly like crystalline water. Something was definitely wrong. 

“Are you alright?” He pressed again, stepping forward to closer examine her. She stepped backwards, the sudden shift in weight too much for her to handle. The realization she was falling barely registered in her mind before two arms were wrapped around her, keeping her up right. “I’m fine.” She croaked, her throat suddenly feeling tight, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling of his arms around her waist was something opposite of abysmal. The sudden warmth and feeling of a security seemed to relax that dull buzzing in her head. 

Tom felt chills shoot straight through his shirt the moment he touched her, and he wasn’t even feeling her skin. The bitter cold was sending waves through her clothing, which was slightly alarming. He’d never seen anything like this before, which did peak his curiosity. His eyes bored into her, and Delilah felt trapped, her breathing becoming more of a challenge so close to him. So close. Parchment. Burnt wood. Cigarettes. It was hauntingly alluring. “You are freezing Pontmercy.” Her eyebrows furrowed and she lifted a heavy arm to touch her forehead, she felt sweat. “Really? It’s hot.” She couldn’t manage proper dialogue. Her mouth felt like it was moving faster than her brain. “Sleep. Just need sleep.” 

What the hell was wrong with her? He stared up and down the hall, hoping to Merlin someone would walk by and take this responsibility for themselves. He’d rather be anywhere else at the moment than having to handle a freezing, quite possibly dying, girl in his arms. “I am taking you to the infirmary.” She shook her head, but Tom watched as her eyes rolled and Delilah practically became dead weight on him. “I’m fine.” She persisted and he felt the urge to scoff. “You never cease to be stubborn. You can barely walk, let alone stand. Your eyes cannot focus, and you are making my own skin prickle with a chill by just touching you.” 

She opened her mouth to retort, but it was clear there was no argument. His lips tugged in a smirk. “Now then,”  
He positioned one of her arms over his shoulder, but quickly realized she was too short. Damn. “Can you walk?” He asked. Delilah blinked up at him, slowly, like she was catatonic. Tom came to realize he didn’t approve of seeing her like this. Weak, unresponsive, not in her usual primal nerve. He’d unknowingly built this image of Delilah in his head, of being quick witted and having a sharp tongue. “Maybe.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears, like she was under water and hearing it from the surface. 

She took a step and fell, her face not meeting the floor because Tom held a strong grip on her arm. With a slight sigh, the most she’s ever seen him do, he turned her around and picked her up. Tom Riddle was carrying her close to his chest. Delilah tried to imagine what they looked like from an outsiders point of view, but the thought gave her a headache. 

He used one of the secret halls-on that thought, Tom wondered why Delilah was in that hall in the first place. That’s why he held a slight expression of surprise before he quickly covered it. As far as he knew, he was the only student aware of such passages. It was odd, having her body pressed to his. He found himself shivering every few seconds, it felt as if he was holding a block of ice. Though instead of melting through his fingers, she just seemed to grow colder. Her head had given up trying to support itself, so it was rested into the crook of his shoulder, golden hair tickling his neck. 

When he reached the doors to the infirmary, he did a bit of wandless magic so they swung open. Madam Fantine looked annoyed until she caught sight of the pale girl in his arms. “She is in need of instant care.” He informed, his voice calm and smooth, but authoritative. “Stars! What happened?” The healer asked and led Tom to the nearest bed. “I do not know, I found her in this state.” He set her down, and he was just about to pull away when Delilah gripped his arm with surprising force. “Dumbledore.” She didn’t miss the flicker of disgust in his eyes, but she set her jaw and looked at him pointedly, to the best of her ability. “Get him, please.” 

 

Knocking sharply on the door twice, Tom stepped back and waited for Dumbledore. His shoulders felt heavy and he was still cold, his fingers felt stiff and they strained as he stretched them. Seconds later Dumbledore opened his classroom door, Tom looked around him and saw it was a class of second years. “Mr Riddle, how may I help you?” Dumbledore didn’t attempt to hide his surprise, Tom never spoke to him unless absolutely necessary. “I am sorry to interrupt professor, but Miss Pontmercy is in the infirmary and she asked for you.” After a moment, barely letting Dumbledore open his mouth, “she said it was urgent.” 

“Of course,” Dumbledore said. He glanced back at his classroom and then looked to Tom. “If it’s not too much trouble, would you please watch over the class while I’m gone?” Tom turned his dark eyes onto the twelve year olds and was satisfied to see some of them shrink in their chairs. Dumbledore wasn’t entirely sure if it was a great suggestion, but he trusted Tom enough not to do anything brash. “Of course, sir.” He nodded his head once and Dumbledore stepped to the side to let him in. 

“Class, as I’m sure most of you know, this is our Head Boy, Tom Riddle. I shan’t be gone long, so he’ll be watching over. Behave.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes swept over the room, and in unison the students nodded. Dumbledore winked at Tom, smiling as he left. He fought down a grimace.

Turning his eyes onto the board to quickly review what they were doing, he looked back at the class and they were staring wide eyed at him. “Good afternoon, you are working on Rabbit Slippers?” It was a rhetoric question, but he raised an eyebrow expectantly at the class. No one moved. 

 

Delilah was fighting consciousness as she waited for Dumbledore. What was taking him so long? Her brain immediately jumped to blame Tom. He probably didn’t go get Dumbledore like she asked. He hated the man, and she was sure he hated her as well. So why would he help? Then again, he did bring her to the hospital wing. Not only that, he carried her. Just as her eyes were about to roll into the back of her head, the doors swung open to reveal Dumbledore. 

“Albus, quieter please! You can’t just barge in here.” Madam Fontaine muttered fiercely, her gaze turning softer as she looked down at Delilah. She’d issued her a few different potions, but refused a sleeping draught until she saw Dumbledore. So the healer took to gently patting a cloth to her forehead. Delilah wouldn’t stop sweating. 

“Clara I apologize, I’m never able to resist a grand entrance.” He laughed lightly and turned his gaze upon the pale girl in the bed. “Miss Pontmercy, you were asking for me?” Dumbledore quickly looked over her form, her skin was more ashen and her blonde hair had dampened. Her eyes also seemed to be dropping every few seconds, she looked exhausted. Delilah barely managed a nod, her lips felt too heavy to speak. Her eyes shifted between Dumbledore and Madam Fontaine, and he quickly got the hint. “Clara, I know you won’t approve, but could you please give me and Miss Pontmercy a moment to discuss something privately?” 

The healer opened her mouth to retort, but Dumbledore fixed her with his gaze and she sighed. “I swear, I’ll be able to do my job properly if my regulations keep being ignored.” She bustled off to her office, but before she shut the door she turned to them. “No getting up from bed.” Delilah wanted to laugh, she could barely even lift a finger much less get out of bed. 

“Whats...what’s wrong with me?” She croaked once Madam Fontaine closed the door. Dumbledore hovered his wand up and down her body, muttering different incantations in various languages. “Fatigue from sleep deprivation and most likely stress. It also looks like you haven’t been eating enough, but there’s something…” he ran his wand over her again and his eyes turned sharp and calculating. Delilah began to feel anxious, if Dumbledore looked worried she was terrified. What the hell was wrong with her?


	10. Chapter Ten

A week had passed, and Madame Fontaine refused to let Clara leave the infirmary, except for the bathroom. 

“Save your strength.” 

If she heard that one more time, Delilah considered throwing herself out the window. She felt fine, just tired. 

Lolita came to visit often, usually after lunch to complain about how insufferable Olive was being. And tales of some secret lover. The meetings were nice, Lolita had even painted Delilah’s nails a nice shade of red and would brush her hair while singing lightly. She had a beautiful voice that made Delilah envious, every time she tried to sing it sounded like she just suffered from a coughing fit. “Why aren’t you in frog choir?” She’d ask, only resorting in Lolita snorting. “And hold those nasty things? Never.” 

Elio came by every afternoon, bringing her snacks from the kitchen, homework to work on, books she wanted from the library, and pepper imps with sugar quills. “Elio you’re a gem.” She sighed as she nibbled on her treats. He smiled brightly, a slight fluster in his cheeks that seemed to be permanent. 

When he first found out Delilah had fallen ill, he nearly broke his nose as he ran out of the common room, due to tripping over the leg Avery stuck out. He remembered Tom walking in, composed as ever. His cool gaze fell on Elio, who was nervous he’d done something to anger Tom. “Your girlfriend is in the infirmary.” He said flatly, walking off before Elio could ask questions. 

Delilah smiled at the memory of him stumbling through the infirmary doors, disheveled hair and panting. “Merlin, you alright love?” He asked her, stalking over to her bed despite the healers protests. “I’m doing beautifully, can’t you tell?” Delilah had just woken up from a long nap and felt renewed. But Madame Fontaine persisted she stay for longer. 

Her favorite visits however were when the boys would come by. They’d crowd around her bed, sprawled out on chairs or even nearby beds. They’d rant about a number of things, Quidditch, Slughorn’s favoritism, and classes. Delilah even got Abraxas to finally try a pepper imp. He made a disgusted face, but she didn’t miss him sneak another candy onto his robes before he left. 

“Fuck, finally.” Delilah sighed as she left the infirmary. The halls were empty, most people were in the Great Hall for lunch. Resisting the urge to skip, Delilah settled for a few spins and as she turned a corner, she ran right into someone. “Shit.” As she stumbled back, her elbow hit the wall and she hissed. 

“Language, Pontmercy.” 

She sighed, her eyes flickering to the form in front of her. “Must you be everywhere I am when I get clumsy? It’s growing to be embarrassing.” 

Tom looked her over, a week's worth of rest seemed to do the trick to returning her health. Her skin was more flush with warm pink, and her royal blue eyes were back to their alertness. Though exhaustion was still evident. He was tempted to reach out a hand to touch her. To see if Delilah was still cold to the touch. To see if that chill ran through his body and make his mind feel numb. Blinking slowly, Tom was shocked and disgusted by his thoughts. 

“Clumsiness appears to be a part of your usual mannerism.” Her eyes narrowed, many insults ringing in her head. A need to smack him rang in her chest. The sound of her hand hitting his cheek was awfully satisfying to imagine. He didn’t come to visit her once. For some reason, that irked her, which only resulted in pissing her off further. 

It was stupid. There was no reason for Tom to come see her. They weren’t friends, and even if they were, Tom didn’t seem the type to be sentimental no matter the relationship. Still, she thought he might’ve had some decency. He was the one to take her to the infirmary. “How’s Olive? Did she come to her senses and realize she’s too good for you?” Delilah felt her eyes slightly widen. Did she really just say that to him?

Tom couldn’t help it, his head tilted to the side and his own eyes narrowed. A chill went up Delilah’s spine at the look he was giving her. His dark brown eyes that usually looked like burnt coffee turned into an abyss of pure black. “Olive is perfectly happy. And we are not dating, so for her to come to her senses and leave me would be impossible.” He kept his tone neutral. But Delilah detecting the slight bite of an undertone, warning her not to push him further. 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Put your pride aside, Merlin.” 

Now Tom simply furrowed his brows. Why was she frustrated? She wasn’t the one who was just insulted. Tom nearly laughed. Olive? Too good for him? He wondered if Delilah should rest a few more days if she was spewing such nonsense. “Whatever do you mean Pontmercy, do enlighten me?” He tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall as he stared down his nose at her. 

He looked amused and Delilah wanted to punch him now. “You treat her like shit, Riddle.” She stated. “She genuinely likes you, Merlin knows why. You know she likes you and you exploit her feelings when they’re in your benefit. But if you find her affections useless, you dismiss her as if she doesn’t even exist. Is empathy a practice completely lost on you? Do you even take into account what other people feel? If you keep treating Olive like she’s an object only partially necessary it will kill her. Or do you just secretly love the attention?” Her voice became lighter with her sudden realization. Completely ignoring that dark look that returned to Tom’s eyes, more deadly than how it was before. 

“Oh I bet that’s it.” Delilah smiled, though it was cruel. “You love the attention, but you’ll never admit it. If you tried, you’d choke on your pride. You walk around like you some kind of god. Chin held high, shoulders back, dismissive gaze, handsome smirk, charming manners only when eyes are watching. But take away the eyes and what’s left? It’s like you're some hollow shell. There’s responsibility in being a person. It’s more than just taking up space where air should be. Who are you when no one is around? Who are you, Tom Riddle?” 

That was a dangerous question and she knew it. 

“Because you’re not a god. You’re not a king or a prince. You’re not an icon. You’re not just a wizard. You’re not just Head Boy. You’re not just Slughorn’s prized pupil. You’re a seventeen year old boy who acts like everyone is out to get you, you play with people as if they’re pieces of a chess game. All of your actions are cross checked, aren’t they? You look ten steps ahead before setting a single foot forward. You’re advanced in all your studies and make some of the professors look like beginners. You act kind, but you are probably one of the most cruel people I know.” 

“I advise you to stop talking.” His voice had dropped a few octaves, if even possible. His tone had lost that seductive rasp, it became smooth and threatening. His eyes a bottomless pit of loathing that made fear rip through her stomach. Tom looked like he wanted to kill her. And mean it. 

But he was right, she was incessantly stubborn. And Delilah knew she was right. Tom needed to hear this, he needed a strike to his ego. 

“Who are you Tom Riddle. Who are you, really?” The sentence barely left her lips before she found herself begging dragged into a nearby classroom. He shoved her into the room and kicked the door shut, not turning his back to her incase she decided to pull out her wand. But she was taken so off guard the thought hadn’t occurred. Before her mind could catch up to the situation, she was being slammed into the wall. 

Delilah hissed at the stinging sensation that shot into her back at the harsh contact. Her head ached due to hitting the stone and her eyes squinted at the pain he was causing in her wrist. He had them pinned above her and his face was looming over hers. “Why do you insist on not listening to me?” Tom had dropped to speaking in a whisper, despite the fact that he cast a silencing charm on the classroom. 

“Finally.” Delilah breathed. This was Tom Riddle. Violent and impulsive, not standing for any blows to the perfect image he’s built of himself. How did he manage to hide himself so perfectly? Tom was capable of acting like everyone else, proper and kind and humane. But he was something else entirely. 

They stared at one another. His grip had loosened on her wrist, but neither moved. 

He was taken by her. Why was she different? She saw through him like he was see through. And he hated it. Delilah was too clever for her own good. A girl like her easily gets hurt in the world. She asks too many questions people don’t want being asked. She has answers no one wants to hear. Delilah was dangerous. And Tom was fascinated. 

“Who are you?” His voice was a soft caress on her ears, almost loving and it made her heart skip. He was too close again. 

Parchment. Burnt wood. Cigarettes. 

And then she hated him. It stung sharply deep in her chest, like someone stabbed an iron rod through her ribs and was trying to dig out her heart. It was calm and collected. Like a peaceful meadow you’d stumble upon while on a walk, the soft chirp of birds in the high lines of softly swaying trees. A storm raging in the distance, thunder rumbling the leaves in nearly invisible succession.

Hating him would be like a game. Similar to the game he played with so many people. That’s all life was to him, wasn’t it? A game to be won by bringing down everyone else. Played with his pale hands, long fingers that held his wand so elegantly. 

“I’m an ordinary girl who isn’t blinded by your facade.” It was a vague answer she knew he wouldn’t accept. 

“You are many things, but not ordinary.” His head tilted to the side, inclining forward slightly. Delilah fought the desperate need to inhale deeper. Drowning in his aura seemed like a seductive idea at the moment, yet repulsive all at once. Her arms were beginning to tingle due to lack of blood flow, he was still lightly holding them above her head. She could’ve easily slipped away from him. 

“No… no you are something else entirely.” 

At that moment Delilah realized she was monumentally screwed. She had Tom Riddle’s undivided attention now, and she didn’t think she could handle it. If he took any interest or curiosity in her she was screwed. Because Tom was clever, scarily so. The devil had competition when it came to deceitfulness. If he tried to find out who she really was, Delilah knew it wouldn’t be impossible he found out the truth. 

Suddenly he stepped back, her arms falling limply to her sides and she felt cold. “You should head to lunch, I am sure Rosier would be glad of your release.” He walked away, leaving her in a puddle of nerves. Tom stopped at the door however, his lips quirked at one side as he eyed the mess she was in, even though she was trying to hide it. 

He could still feel her pulse beating rapidly under his finger tips. He could’ve let go of her arms once he realized she wouldn’t struggle. But Tom felt her heartbeat stutter into a frantic pace and he couldn’t seem to let go of her. “See you in class, Pontmercy.” 

And with that, he left. 

And she hated him. 

___________________________________________

 

Instead of facing her problem known as Tom Riddle, Delilah skipped class and huddled in a far corner of the library. Her breathing was shallow. 

It felt like she had just broken the surface of water after nearly drowning. 

She wanted to go home. Even though Delilah didn’t know where that was anymore. It was Hogwarts, but that had been ripped away from her as well as everywhere else. 

Delilah missed her friends. She missed her family. And she wanted to cry, but as usual, the tears refused to make an appearance. Her fist were clenched tightly, her nails forming bloody crescents into her palms. Screaming seemed like a lovely thing to do. Her head felt light, yet heavy on her shoulders and her legs felt like strangers and Delilah practically ran outside. 

The Forbidden forest was in her sights. She stalked past the large trees, each looming in warning of the possible dangers ahead. But she didn’t care. In fact, she’d welcome anything that dared to cross her. 

Once the forest became denser, Delilah pulled her lip from her teeth and tasted blood on her tongue. Why couldn’t she just be dead like she was supposed to be? This wasn’t some miracle second chance at life. This was hell. Her own personal hell specially crafted to make her suffer. 

A scream ripped through her lungs, the shrill sound echoing around her. It felt good. Delilah wanted to scream till her vocal chords were strained from the overexertion. 

Her wand was in her hand, Delilah didn’t remember grabbing it. A memory assaulted the forefront of her mind. Delilah was no longer seventeen and standing in a forest. 

She was eleven and staring up at Ollivander with wonder in her eyes. She’d found her wand, after trying five others. With a wave, Delilah sent a stack of papers on fire. 

“Ah, lovely!” Ollivander cheered, beaming down at her horrified face. 

“Wand-quality aspen wood is highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charm work.” He said while bustling around the shop, he always seemed to be moving. “The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic.” Delilah didn’t think of herself as someone who actively seeked out a challenge, or find herself in such a situation. “An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century duelling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands.” The wand was twelve and a half inches, it was carved roughly but still smooth, and was bent slightly at the handle with a dragon heartstring core. “In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.”

“Reducto!” She screamed and watched as the tree exploded. Delilah fell to the floor as splinters of wood rained around her, her breathing ragged. “I want to go home.” Her voice was weak and barely audible to her own ears. “Why didn’t you just kill me?” She shouted to the sky, not any diety specifically in mind. “You fucking sadist! Why didn’t you just kill me?”

A thought crossed her mind then. And she froze. Utterly disgusted with herself for having such a curiosity. 

What if she cast the killing curse on herself? 

Would that even be possible? In order to successfully cast the curse, you have to mean it. And Delilah was too much of a coward for such a thing. Plus the added weight of guilt. If she were to kill herself, she’d be giving up the possibility of seeing her friends and family again. She’d be giving up hope. Taking the easy way out and not dealing with her problems head on. 

The dead aren’t the ones who suffer the loss of life, it’s the mourners. 

Delilah coughed and sat up, wiping the dirt from her face as she did so. “Pull your shit together, Delilah.” She told herself. “This isn’t the end of the world.” The words were repeated the whole way back to the castle. Although it sure as hell felt like the end of the world. Perhaps it was, the world she knew was gone. Or yet, it hadn’t happened. 

It took all her strength not to eat in the kitchens for lunch. Sitting down at the Slytherin table, her friends gave a start at the sight of her. Tom hadn’t told them she’d be released. Delilah flinched involuntarily at the thought of him. Chancing a glance, Delilah was relieved to see he wasn’t in his usual seat. 

An arm snaked its way around her and a warm kiss was planted on her temple. “You okay, love?” Elio asked, his presence easing her slightly. Elio was comfortable and safe. The exact antithesis of Tom. 

Tom made her feel on edge. She never knew what he would do next, he kept her one her toes. He was a devil wrapped in a charming exterior. An enigma begging her to delve deeper. He made her think twice, and he made her curious. Tom made her want to know more. She wanted to know how he became who he is. Why he acted the way he did when people were watching and why he acted the way he did when people weren’t. He made her feel dangerous and unique and interesting. 

And she hated him. 

__________________________________________

 

Three things kept a consistent recession in his head throughout that day. 

Who was Delilah Pontmercy?

How could she read him so easily?

And peppermint. 

Delilah smelt like peppermint and it was overwhelming, but not so much as to be intolerable. He suspected it was because of all those candies she ate. 

Anger was still present deep in his chest. As it usually was, but the feeling was being more noticeable due to the lovely conversation he just had. Tom should’ve just dismissed her, like he usually would’ve. But he let his control slip. 

Everything she said was true, which not only made him dislike her, but annoyingly curious. How in the name of Merlin was she even possible. He hasn’t met a single person like Delilah, besides maybe Dumbledore. But even that old fool didn’t realize the true depth of Tom’s character. Sure, Dumbledore had his suspicions but none of them were sound. 

Yet there came Delilah, waltzing around all knowing with that ridiculously pleased smile on her face. Her eyes alight with knowledge he craved to know. He wanted to use legilimens in her. But if he did, Tom knew he’d never get the opportunity again. She was a talented witch and he couldn’t afford to underestimate her. 

Delilah was something else entirely during Defense Against the Dark Arts when they duel. Tom hadn’t dueled her yet, not wanting to embarrass her. She was talented, yes, but no match for himself. 

Delilah was quick on her feet, her steps silent. It was surprising to see her fight. She didn’t appear intimidating at first glance, but there’s a fire in her eyes upon further examination. Delilah held herself with grace, and to his amusement she didn’t swear while dueling. Her bottom lip was usually tucked between her teeth, and her blonde hair pulled into a messy knot atop her head. The look of her wasn’t proper or put together at all, but it worked.

He was also intrigued with the amount of hexes she knew, none of them too kind. Delilah even got a detention at one point after the professor warned her to calm down and ease up on her opponent. Tom remembered her smiling numbly at the teacher, and as soon as the woman turned her back, Delilah scoffed and sent hex at her Hufflepuff opponent. When she got handed the detention slip, there wasn’t an ounce of guilt in her royal blue eyes. 

She had a fighter's spirit. A determination that was admirable and could be of great use. 

Over all, he wanted to know what she knew. That way he could rid of her. He didn’t like the distraction she had become. 

Every time Tom would open his window for a midnight smoke, he found himself recognizing the night sky was the same shade as her eyes when she was frustrated. Such thoughts weren’t necessary when he could be thinking about a million other things. Such as the journey he’d be taking this summer to deal with a certain dark wizard. 

Delilah plaguing his thoughts wasn’t entirely his own doing. Rosier was also to blame, but overall it was her fault. If only she never transferred to Hogwarts. 

Rosier never shut up about her. Ranting nonsense about some joke she told him, or how she did something amusing at lunch, how messy her handwriting was and how it was somehow endearing. Tom scoffed at that, he knew well how terrible her writing was. How she had decent grades was surprising, he didn’t think the professors would be able to read it. And Merlin, Tom wanted to shove a cigarette into Rosiers eye when he’d start spewing romantic rubbish about how her hair was golden sun rays and other things. 

The fool was in some illusion called love. 

He smiled however, and it was cruel. But he didn’t care. Delilah was certainly right about one thing, empathy was lost on him. 

Although Tom couldn’t read her easily, he could tell she didn’t love Rosier when the couple was together. Infatuation and endearment, maybe. But not what was believed to be love. 

The notion in itself was ridiculous, love was just some excuse made up by some sod who was driven by lust no doubt. Or pure stupidity. That concept was also lost on Tom. So many saw it as a power, but it was a weakness. 

Love, is what killed his mother. Or what she believed was love. But no, the feeling was false and imitated. His father didn’t move his mother, not really, he was under the effects of a love potion his selfish mother had forced him to take. And once she realized how cruel she was being, she took him off it, being foolish enough to think his sentiments might be genuine. Then he left her, called her many things that were anything but kind. And after she gave birth to Tom, she died of a broken heart. 

No. Love was a weakness. Love was hurtful and cruel. Love was something that got you killed. 

And he’d never succumb to such a weakness. 

Love was a side effect humanity suffered in order to attempt to cure loneliness. 

But Tom thrived when he was in his own. He could rely on no one but himself. He had a system and it worked.

Tom developed a protection for himself. He set up walls to save himself from a hostile force, known as the world. He slowly earned this capability during his younger years at the orphanage. If Tom got into trouble, it was because the world was an angry conspiracy against him and he fought his way out through his cleverness and skill. He had a way to twist the circumstances and pin the wrong doings on his opposers. If Tom attacked the world, it was revenge and it was damn well deserved. Like when he murdered his father. The bastard had it coming.

Tom had strict rules for himself. Don’t believe anyone, they have a second motive. Keep his mouth shut, they don’t want to hear the truth, tell them what they want to hear and they’ll be easy to manipulate. Keep his ears alert and wait till they make a slip up of useful information, grab onto it and wait to use it to his advantage. 

And lastly, do not trust anyone, ever. 

His system worked, Tom had no basis of comparison. He knew it was necessary to be smart if he wanted to survive and he considered himself brilliant. Ten steps ahead of anyone. If he pulled something off, and he always did, it was clever. And by the rare chance he failed, that was a stroke of misfortune.

And the next challenge to overcome was in the form of a five foot two blonde, smelt like peppermint, and had the most haunting eyes he’s ever seen. 

Tom Riddle found himself smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few quotes from a book I adore in here and if you know what book, I love you. 
> 
> All wand information is from Pottermore, I do not own it. 
> 
> Also, unrelated, Billie Eilish released her new album and BITCH I’ve been listening to it on repeat. There’s bops and sad hoe hour songs that slap. I recommend. 
> 
> ALSO also, I started the Six of Crows series, and I’m in the middle of Crooked Kingdom and I am in love. I highly recommend checking those books out. They’re YA fantasy and Six of Crows is about six outcasts/criminals who get hired to do an impossible heist. And the main character Kaz Brekker is the dark and brooding anti hero I adore (he reminds me so much of Tom in some aspects). And it has an amazing diverse cast of lead characters. 
> 
> A physically disabled boy who suffers from severe ptsd.   
> A dark skinned middle eastern-coded girl who was a victim of sex trafficking but escaped and vowed revenge on all sex traffickers.   
> A bisexual-coded girl who is explicitly described as being larger and not super skinny but is still described as beautiful, sexual, and incredibly powerful  
> An explicitly bisexual dark skinned POC boy who ends up in a M/M relationship   
> An explicitly gay boy who is looked down on by his family for severe reading and learning disabilities but becomes an incredible scientist and musician   
> And a white male who overcomes the toxic ideologies he was raised in and learns to overcome the prejudices and lies he was fed his entire life 
> 
> ITS SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SERIES AND SO WELL WRITTEN PLEASE READ IT 
> 
> It’s Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Also I finished Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo and holy shit, that book is pure art

Not being able to cry was one thing, but watching other people bawl their eyes out with a runny nose was something else. 

Delilah slowly ate her food as Olive sobbed, Lolita rubbing comforting circles into the girls back. Now she remembered why she hated crying so much, disgust pooled in her chest. Pity also tugged again. Tom was no doubt the reason for Olive’s anguish. The girl had tried to properly ask him to be her boyfriend and he shot her down, again. 

Olive was persistent though, so really it was her own fault she kept letting herself be put down. 

Lolita sighed as she brushed the brown locks from Olive’s wet cheeks. She looked like a mother caring for her child. “Real men make your panties wet dear, not your eyes.” Said Lolita, casually taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Delilah choked on her food and a bark of laughter escaped her lips, causing a good majority of the table to look at her. Olive even cracked a smile. 

“You know,” Delilah said as she waved her fork around, “Tom Riddle is good at a lot of things, but I bet he’s dreadful at foreplay-“ she stopped talking immediately as a tall figure came into view across the table. “Spreading lies, Pontmercy?” Tom sat at the table, poised as ever. Olive’s lip trembled at the sight of him and she muttered an excuse before leaving the Great Hall. Lolita and Delilah shared a glance, silently arguing which one should go after her. “You go, I’ve been offering emotional support all lunch.” 

“Hell no, she hates me. And I suck at emotional support and I’d only make her more depressed.” 

With a glare, Lolita swung her bag over her shoulder and stalked away. “Girl trouble?” Lestrange asked as he sat down next to Tom, taking Olive’s seat. She shook her head, making a point to glare at Tom. Who in turn wasn’t bothering to look at any of them, his head bent down and eyes trained on his essay. 

He never seemed to not be working on something. “What class is that for?” She asked. He raised a brow, still not caring to look at her, “Arithmancy.” Delilah blinked and felt that inkling of panic nip at the base of her skull. “We didn’t have an essay due, that’s next week.” 

A disgustingly handsome smirk pulled at the boys lips as his eyes dragged up to look at her. “I hate to tell you this, but it is due today.” Tom watched as she scrambled to stand up, haphazardly throwing things into her bag as a string of curses left her lips. It was so entertaining to freak her out. The reaction made something nip in his chest. Her eyes wide, pupils shrunken. Delilah also messed with her hair a lot when she panicked. 

“Fuck.” She threw her bag over her shoulder, accidentally hitting Elio in the process. “Sorry, Elio. Bye.” She planted a kiss on his lips before running down the aisle and out the two large oak doors. Tom smirked and neatly rolled up the parchment before placing it in his own bag. 

There was no essay due. 

Dark eyes drifted to pale green. “Something the matter?” Elio looked rather peaky, yet was glowing at the same time. “No...no nothing at all.” He smiled to himself, it was small but content. Abraxas smirked and nudged him, “that’s the first time she kissed you on the lips since Hogsmeade isn’t it?” Elio blushed and he scoffed. “No, we kiss loads of times.” 

Elio yelped as Abraxas put him in a headlock, ruffling his already wild hair with a fist. “No need to be so embarrassed, Elio dear. I’m sure loads of girls kiss their boyfriends like they’re their mum.” Before another jab could leave Lestrange’s lips, a roll of bread hit him in the face. “It’s alright, you’re taking it slow. You don’t need to rush things.” Avery said as he bit into his sandwich, earning confused looks from the boys. Save for Tom. He was looking at them all as if they were children incapable of coherent thought. 

Why he made himself suffer through such company was beyond him. 

“Christmas is among us, Avery are you still able to house us?” Tom asked, satisfaction bunching in his chest as the tan boy shrunk in on himself at being directly spoken to. That, and he wasn’t looking forward to having Tom Riddle in his home. “Yes, my parents are happy to host but,” he trailed, rubbing at his neck with the palm of his hand. 

Tom raised a brow, urging him to continue. “In light of certain events, Yule ball is going to be hosted at the Avery Manor, so that’ll be fun.” A majority of the boys groaned except for Lestrange and Tom. Lestrange perked up, smiling widely. He could never refuse an excuse to dress in a nice suit. Tom didn’t exactly like the notion of having to attend a ball with insufferable, stuck up Pure Blooded podges. But a Yule Ball was an excellent means of making connections. 

“Fun, indeed.”

___________________________________________

 

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Delilah tried to hide behind Elio, but there was no escaping the form stalking towards her. Well no, not stalking, more like elegantly floating over with a dangerous aura. “Riddle, may I help you?” Elio swallowed a gulp as Tom managed to peer down his nose at him, even though he was only an inch or so taller than Elio. 

Tom looked at Elio for a moment before promptly ignoring him and leaning to the side to look at Delilah. “Pontmercy I would appreciate it if you looked at me when I speak to you.” Curse his stupid, sultry voice. Delilah snarled her teeth as her face was buried in Elio’s back. She was still pissed about how he tricked her into having a mini panic attack over a fake essay. Still, she wouldn’t take Tom as someone to pull a joke. Sighing, she plastered on a smile and looked up at him. “Yes, Riddle?” 

He grinned pleasantly, a closed mouth smile that pulled against his cheeks. It was strained. Lately just looking at her was causing annoyance to arise. He’d wondered if casting the cruciatus curse on her would be fruitless. People tended to become weak under torture, to succumb to the pain and spill their secrets. There was a defiance that cracked around Delilah. A girl like her wouldn’t bend to another so easily, such a thing would require skill and patience. Two things Tom certainly had. 

Maybe that’s why he found Olive so mundane. Getting her affections took no effort at all. She’d bend over backward off the Astronomy tower if he asked. Same for anyone, he had Hogwarts in the palm of his hand. He was like a king, in a sense. Despite what Delilah had said a week ago. Had it really only been a week? Time slowed when they looked at each other, royal blue fighting coffee black. The hate that radiated off her, Merlin he could get drunk on it if he so pleased. 

An angry Delilah was beyond amusing. He liked when she got mad. It was a change of pace. Something new of this environment he was so accustomed to. Most eyes that looked at him were of lust, infatuation, envy, or fear. But no one had yet to compare to the pure loathing in Delilah’s gaze. 

She was persistent on holding her ground. But Tom didn’t miss the tremble of her hands, her bitten lips, and her hitched breathing. And he certainly didn’t forget the way her pulse spiked when he had touched her. He left her in a mess of want and need and he soaked up the image. He remembered her messy hair, wide eyes, and shaking legs.

Tom turned his attention to the girl in front of him again. “Would you like to duel?” She blinked. Was he being serious? Delilah wasn’t suicidal, Tom would kill her the first chance he got. And if they dueled, she had no doubt he’d stage her murder as a tragic accident. “Sorry, I’m with Elio.” 

Elio barely missed a beat as Tom slightly narrowed his eyes. “It’s okay, love. I can wait another round.” Delilah gaped at her, her boyfriend? Was that was this was? Did he really succumb to Tom so easily? “Besides,” Elio said. “Tom Riddle versus Delilah Pontmercy? It’ll be quite the show.” She glared at him as he walked away, shooting an apologetic glance over his shoulder. 

“Why’d you do that?” She snapped. A look of innocence washed over his face, it looked wrong. Unease weighed down her feet every time she was near him. That look of unadulterated abhorrence in his eye from when he pinned her against the wall. His breathing low and his body much too close. 

It was haunting Delilah.

She’s been having to keep her mind busy since their little confrontation. If a single moment of peace stumbled its way upon her, she felt trapped between Tom and a stone wall all over again, feeling weak and repulsed. 

Yet triumphant, she was capable of making him break free from his restraints. She was the one who made him snap. It was dangerous and stupid to push him, Delilah knew that. But to her knowledge, nobody else had been able to do such a thing to the calm and composed Tom Riddle. 

“You are a talented witch, I think a healthy challenge is good for the both of us.” He said. Despite her efforts, Delilah snorted. “Yeah right, you probably just see this as an opportunity to hex me and get away with it.” 

Tom tilted his head to the side, studying her. Dark eyes started at her roughed up leather shoes. She really should keep better maintenance. His gaze dragged up her legs that dawned knee socks, tights, and a skirt, her jumper, trailed along the curls of her hair, and met royal blue eyes that seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. 

Oh yes, hexing her into oblivion was severely tempting. Or perhaps even dropping a chandelier on top of her? That would surely take her off guard. That beckoning to cast the cruciatus curse on her called again, but Tom shook his head in mock virtue. 

“I would never.” 

Delilah narrowed her eyes at the wall just past his shoulder, she didn’t think looking him in the eye was a good idea. It was common knowledge Tom didn’t take any interest in girls, in the seven years he’s been at Hogwarts, he’s ignored every single advance. Delilah wondered if he was perhaps gay, but he just seemed empty when it came to affections for anyone. Perhaps asexual?

So why had he been looking at her as if she was a fucking tart? 

It set a tingling sensation into the base of her skull and Delilah nearly gagged. No, she refused to let him make her feel such a way. He may be attractive, but he was immoral and completely lacked any humane courtesy. 

For a moment, they just stood there. Three feet apart, her peppermint scent just barely teasing his senses. And his distinct parchment, burnt wood, and cigarettes was lulling her to step closer. With a forced sigh, Delilah nodded. 

They stepped away, putting about six feet between them. She felt cold all the sudden but rolled her shoulders and flexed her fingers around her wand. “Is there anything you are not comfortable with?” He asked. It was generous of him to ask and made her feel put off. 

Delilah dueled better when she was afraid or angry, adrenaline pumping as her heart thudded in her head. Despite the three months she’s been in the past, her body was still used to dueling to defend her life, even to the point if she had to kill someone. Defense Against the Dark Arts had been fairly mundane, but Tom would certainly spice things up. 

“Just don’t send me to the infirmary, I can’t stand the place.” Humor, her best defense. Surprisingly, Delilah actually had been able to discombobulate a death eater or two with a well placed witty comment or stupid joke that made no sense. Perhaps if she just didn’t shut up while Tom and herself dueled, he’d be too annoyed to defend himself properly? 

Either that, or his patience would snap again and he’d send a lovely killing curse her way. 

Now that she thought about it, would he actually be capable of killing? Delilah mused about it a lot. 

Something was wrong. There was something inside Tom that seemed familiar. But not in a sense that brought her comfort, it was a familiarity that rooted her fear of him, as well as hate. Though yes, his aura is enigmatic and charismatic, there was something daunting in his eyes. She didn’t know Tom’s life circumstances, Delilah wasn’t sure if she wanted to. 

But what had he seen? She’s confronted many people with that same unnerving glimmer, people who’ve seen too much and have done too much. 

It was a shame, really. Tom was brilliant, and it was enchanting to see him work in his element. When he walked into a room, everyone wanted to talk to him. Tom was alluring. But it was as if he was too beautiful to approach, fearing he’d blur before anyone had the opportunity to get too close. 

A shame such brains went to someone with a disgusting personality. 

Tom straightened his back, rolling his shoulders as he got his feet positioned. His hand held his wand lightly, as if he just brought it out for observation. “Ready?” He asked, his lips were quirked to one side and Delilah wished she was anywhere but in front of him. Why was she suddenly scared? 

Tom wouldn’t actually hurt her, would he? Not severely at least. They were surrounded by other students and a professor, he wouldn’t be so careless. That didn’t mean he would go easy on her, Delilah was well aware of that based on the determined set of his brow. “Ready.” She replied, her tone stronger than she felt. 

They bowed to one another, and as soon as Delilah righted herself a jinx flew her way. She didn’t even see his wand move. She knew Tom was skilled at non-verbal magic, which would only make this more difficult. Delilah quickly casted a protego charm and sent jelly legs jinx at him. She felt childish for such a thing, he looked passive as he deflected the spell with ease. 

What made her grind her teeth was the bored expression on his face. It was as if he was being passively aggressively disappointed in her. She hated it. Her hand itched to throw a nasty hex at him, something to make him crumble, or at least trip him up. But patience was key. If she wanted to take Tom off guard, she’d have to slowly work to that point, become unpredictable. 

Anteoculatia!

It was a ridiculous hex, but it was the first thing to come to mind. He deflected it easily again, a barely noticeable chuckle passing his lips. “A hex to make me grow antlers?” Tom mused and Delilah forced a blush to her cheeks. She needed to fool him, but tricking Tom would be no easy feat. 

Tom knew what she was trying to do, but he wouldn’t let her know that. Delilah might’ve been able to pull off her incompetent facade if only he hadn’t watched her so closely when she dueled others. He’d play along though, if she wished to act like a little minx than so be it. She’ll only humiliate herself further. 

Colloshoo. 

Delilah didn’t see his wand move, so when she tried to step forward, her feet wouldn’t budge. The bastard used a stickfast hex. Delilah dodged another hex of his as she tried to wedge her feet out of her shoes. A whirl of purple fire shot towards her and she yelped while ducking. Muttering protego, she was only able to manage untying one shoe before another spell slammed against her defense. 

Another whirl of purple fire shot towards her as she managed to yank her other foot free, so now her socked feet were susceptible to sliding on the wooden flooring. Her wand twirled in the air as she shot a fountain of water at him, the elements combined, and a thick settlement of evaporated water hung around them. Delilah felt cornered despite how the class backed away from them. 

Annoyed at her circumstances, Delilah gave up her little game. Flicking her wand, a chair shot through the air, heading directly for Tom. He smirked, glad things were starting to pick up pace. If she was the first to cast an offense, if anything were to happen, he could rely on saying it was self defense. 

He hit the chair with a small reducto, freezing the motion before the shards of wood could shoot across the classroom, and fired the splinters back at Delilah. Her eyes widened as she put up a shield, the wooden spikes turning to ashes as they hit. 

Tom didn’t miss a beat as he yanked a desk that was against the wall and shot it at her, it rebounded off her shield, making her slide back a good foot. As the desk came back towards Tom, he transfigured the wood to glass, and sent long daggers flying at her. 

What the hell was he playing at? 

Delilah knew a simple protego wouldn’t do shit to protect her. She threw up her arms, muttering a runic spell Hermione taught her last year that sounded like a strange foreign tongue to anyone else’s ears. Tom didn’t even recognize it. A misty wall formed in front of her and as the glass daggers passed through, they became a fine powder and floated softly to the ground. 

Her wand moved in a rhythmic fashion as stone pillars shot through the wall, trying to fashion a barricade around Tom. He made it crumble easily, but just as the wall dropped blue fire shot towards him and he threw up a defense, sending the flame back towards her in the form of a large serpent. 

It was strangely beautiful, but Delilah didn’t have time to admire the peculiar looking creature. During her partial distraction, the hem of her skirt caught on fire and she quickly waved away the flame. Her thigh felt hot, she hoped it didn’t get burned enough to blister. 

She yanked her wand up, the glass powder shot into the air and formed a wall, it looked like crystal as it reformed into a solid, shards of glass fitting tightly together. Tom had to squint slightly to see her, the glass was highly reflective and seemed to shimmer in a variety of colors. He saw her hands lift and push forward, the motion was distorted, but not a second later the glass shattered with a resounding ‘boom’ and shot towards him at lighting quick speed. 

Both of them ignored the gasps and started screams of the rest of the class. 

Tom transfigured the glass to water moments before the shattered wall hit him. The droplets of water still felt like needle pricks as they hit his body, soaking through his school robes. Tom clenched his jaw as the sight of her pleased smile.

Crucio seemed oh so tempting. 

He used a moderated version of Serpensortia, not lethal, but if bitten the effects wouldn’t be pleasant. 

Delilah barely had time to blink before she saw a flash of black scales and fangs. She winced as a sharp flash of heat shot through her leg, looking down she nearly screamed at the sight of a black snake sinking its fangs into her thigh. She trapped it in a ball of water, swirling it in the air, watching it thrash as it drowned before freezing the water and let it drop. A dull ache was pounding in her left leg, she hissed through her teeth at the sight of what appeared to be black veins spreading under her skin from the bite. 

Tom smiled to himself and dried his clothing, he wasn’t able to tame his hair before the ball of ice with a dead snake inside came hurtling towards his head. He easily side stepped it, the ice hit the stone wall behind him with a loud crack. 

Delilah blinked rapidly, her visit was going blurry but she refused to forfeit. He watched as she swayed in the place, her long lashes batting frantically to keep focus. He had to give her some credit, most would’ve passed out by now. He wondered what she felt. 

Fire shooting through her veins, her heart feeling like a hard block of bitter ice? Her head pounding? Her pulse quickening to dangerous heights. And… oh yes, there’s the nose bleed. Delilah ignored it as the blood began to drip over her lip. He looked down at her leg and saw the spindly, spider like black veins dancing across her thigh. 

What she did next he wasn’t expecting. 

She smiled. A wide grin, and it was unsettling. Lips pulled, dimples he didn’t know she had deepened, and white teeth were stained red with blood. 

Delilah wasn’t thinking straight, whatever venom that was in that snake he conjured was making her feel disoriented and she couldn’t finish a proper thought of she tried. Her smile felt wild, and she was sure she looked insane to the others, to Tom. 

She slashed her wand through the air, still grinning maniacally, and the words that slipped out of her mouth next sent a shock wave through her spine. 

“Sectumsempra!” 

Tom’s brows furrowed at the incantation, he racked his brain for a defense. Usually he didn’t even have to consider a counter spell to defend himself, the spells came naturally to him, like instinct. His wand usually moved on its own accord, obeying each and every one of his thoughts whether they were subconscious or not. But as the flash of white light shot towards him, his mind was blank. 

He quickly cast a protego, but the spell shot through it like a sharp blade. The hex slammed into him, hitting Tom directly in the chest and his eyes widened at the notion that he had been bested. 

Delilah watched in horror as blood seeped from Tom’s face, chest, arms, and legs. It was as if a dagger slashed into every inch of his body, an invisible blade utterly lacerating him. Tom staggered backwards, his eyes wide as he stared at Delilah in pure shock before he collapsed into a desk, falling to the floor. 

He convulsed at the pain, he felt heavy despite the fact his blood was pooling around him. It felt as if a knife was digging its way out of every crevice of his body. Twisting and turning before it tore through his skin. 

Delilah scrambled over to him, falling to her knees at his side. Warm blood soaked through her socks and she nearly choked out a scream. Tom was twitching and his face was scrunched, but he wasn’t screaming or showing any other signs of pain. Her fingers were soaked in his blood as she tried to detect how many cuts there were on his chest. 

A hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched. “Miss Pontmercy, what in the name of Merlin did you do?” The professor asked, her tone in pure shock. “Someone get Madame Fontaine here immediately!” She shouted to the rest of the class, Delilah barely registered Lestrange sprinting out the door. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Fuck. Fuck fuck. Tom I’m sorry, oh my god.” She racked her brain for the counter-curse to heal him. What was it? Delilah read through Harry’s sixth year Potions book loads of times, but her panic was muddling her memory. “Stop blabbering and fix this.” Tom ground out through clenched teeth, blood was flooding his mouth. 

What is it? What- yes. 

Delilah’s fingers slipped as she tried to firmly grasp her wand, the ivory like wood became slick with Tom’s blood. “Vulnera Sanentur.” She began in a song like incantation, moving her wand slowly over each cut and repeated the words in a rhythm, her voice trembling. The blood surrounding them slowly reversed itself back into the deep cuts, before they sealed. The ones on his chest were significantly deeper, so he was left with a faint white scar in a few areas. The blood that stained her socks, skirt, and sleeves remained however. 

Tom felt the warmth of blood slowly come back to him, he had been losing too much and began to feel numb before she started softly singing. He was about to curse her for singing at such a time when he felt his wounds start to close. 

He was beyond livid, but knew she needed to completely heal him first. His eyes burned into her as he watched Delilah’s wand tremble in her blood soaked hand. Actually, her whole body was shaking and her eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them. They lost that deep royal blue, and became crystalline again. The only other time he saw them like that was when she’d fallen ill in that hall. 

He had to admit he was curious. Whatever curse she hit him with, was clearly dark magic. He didn’t take her for the sort, Delilah was too prideful, and too good. He’d expect her to ‘hold herself above that’ sort of magic. What was even more fascinating was that he didn’t recognize the curse. And Tom’s knowledge on dark magic was extensive. 

He tried to remember what she had screamed at him so venomously. Sectumsempra, yes that was it. He didn’t recognize the curse, and he definitely had never read about it. His brain made quick work of breaking it down. 

Sectum was Latin for ‘having been cut’ and sempra was similar to the likes of the Latin term semper, which translated to ‘always’. Always cutting, perhaps? The effects of the curse were similar to the Severing Charm, though Sectumsempra seemed much more malicious. 

As soon as Delilah was finished, she placed her hands on his face and muttered a blood replenishing charm to bring some warmth to his cheeks. Her hands were cold, and she cringed at the blood she smeared on his skin. “I’m so sorry, Tom forgive me.” He glanced at her and froze, her eyes seemed to bore into his skull at petrify him.

Something was wrong however, her eyes were glossy and her breathing was shallow, and much too slow. He pulled her hands from his face and glanced down, her left leg was covered in the black veins and a purple bruise began to erupt from the center of her wound. He looked back up at her, not being able to successfully hide his astonishment. 

How the hell was she even still conscious? 

“Delilah your leg.” She blinked, brows furrowed and her lips tugged downward. 

He called her by her first name. 

She looked down and sucked in a breath at the sight. “Oh.” Was all she managed to say before her eyes rolled back. Tom just barely managed to cup a hand under her head before it hit the floor. 

Seconds later the healer burst through the door. “What’s-oh dear me!” She rushed forward at the sight of Delilah, unconscious, covered in blood, and her leg looking battered. 

Tom sat up on his knees, leaning over her as he checked her pulse just beneath her jaw. It was low, her body weakening at a rapid pace due to her fighting off the venom for so long. It wasn’t lethal, but the effects were more severe than he was expecting. “Out of the way dear.” Madame Fontaine said and tried to push him away. 

“Step back.” His tone was a deep baritone, a rasp croaked on his dry throat, but authority dripped off his words. Madame Fontaine opened her mouth to lecture him, but Tom wasn’t having it. He lifted one of Delilah’s eyes open and checked for any other effects the venom might be causing. Without looking at the healer, Tom continued to check other possible symptoms as he said, “I know the counter-spell, so I ask you Madame Fontaine, do not interrupt me, please.” 

Tom looked at the wound through her sheer tights and pushed back her blood stained skirt. He tore through the satin and hovered his wand a mere inch above the bite mark and began muttering a series of healing charms and other spells to counteract the poison running through her system. 

When he finished, he placed two fingers beneath her jaw and felt the pulse slowly become stronger. Nearly twenty seconds later Delilah’s eyes shot open and she took in a shuddering breath. She blinked rapidly and her eyes found Tom’s. A strange feeling shot through him as he realized her eyes were back to their deep royal blue. The feeling left as quickly as it came. 

“What happened?” She croaked, her mouth dry and it hurt to pull her tongue from the roof of her mouth. He opened his mouth, but no words got out before she shot up. Her hands fumbled over his shirt and face. “Oh my god, are you okay? You look okay. Are you okay, though? I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. Are you okay?” He slapped her hands away and half heartedly glared at her. “I am fine, Pontmercy.” 

She frowned at the sound of her last name. 

Their professor came into their line of sight. She look furious and Delilah only then became aware of the audience they had. Her eyes found Elio’s, he looked pale and made way to step towards them but their teacher snapped at him to stay put. “We need to have a word with your head of house.” 

“What they need to do, is go to the infirmary.” Madame Fontaine said firmly, a hand gesturing wildly to Tom and Delilah who still sat in the floor. “They’re pale as ghosts! They need care instantly. When I see them fit, then Slughorn can come and have a chat.” Their professor argued with the healer for at least two minutes before they were ushered out the door to the infirmary. 

Tom was supporting most of Delilah’s weight, she had an arm wrapped around his waist as she tried not to drag her feet. Exhaustion was begging her to just fall asleep, but she was in no mood to have Tom carrying her again. Guilt ripped through her chest. And she was made at herself for it. 

She hated Tom, and part of herself told her that he deserved it. But that was dark magic she used, which was shocking in itself. Delilah never thought she would fall so slow to use such magic. He could’ve died if she didn’t remember the counted curse, nothing else would have healed him. 

Tom brought out the worst of Delilah, and it scared her. 

Warm breath tickled her ear and Delilah jumped, she turned and flinched at the close proximity. Tom’s face was mere inches from her and he had a dark look in his eye as they neared the infirmary doors. “We will discuss more about this later.” His voice was firm, and left no room for argument. Delilah nodded and suddenly felt dizzy. He was too close again. 

Parchment, burnt wood, cigarettes. 

And the iron smell of blood, his blood. 

“I really am sorry.” She winced at how pathetic she sounded. How many apologies have left her mouth, she didn’t know. But she needed to him to nod, to say he forgave her. Delilah would even settle for being told to fuck off. She needed him to say something, anything. 

But she was greeted by silence. And despite that they were practically pressed against each other, Tom felt miles away. 

They were assigned beds across from one another, Delilah wished to jump out the window behind her at the moment. He wouldn’t stop looking at her. 

Tom stared at her blood soaked clothing. His blood. His jaw ticked, he couldn’t believe how weak she had made him. Delilah managed to draw blood, nearly killing him. He didn’t think she had it in her to use such magic. That bloody grin loomed behind his eyes. The manic look was the antithesis of her usual easygoing beam. 

Something had shifted in that moment while they dueled. Something opened up, breaking through her usual exterior. And he brought it out. Something dangerous and not to be tampered with. Her golden locks cracked with magic, he could still remember the buzz surrounding her. He could feel it. 

They really brought out either the worst of each other, or the most powerful. 

He touched his chest lightly, he’d have scars, though they were faint. He tried a series of charms to conceal the damage, but the white marks wouldn’t fade. Where had she learned of such a spell? 

Curiouser and curiouser. 

Delilah kept squirming in her bed and he fought down the urge to smile at her discomfort. She looked like she wanted to jump out the window. If he could, he’d gladly assist in shattering the glass and tossing her out. 

No one had ever been capable of leaving a physical mark on his body. 

It would be rude not to return the courtesy. He couldn’t attempt such a thing today, no, he’d have to wait to repay her. 

When Madame Fontaine finally left the room, his eyes snapped towards her and Delilah shrunk into the sheets. 

She was expecting him to yell at her. To curse her. Throw her around like a rag doll. Question her on how she knew such dark magic. Torture her. Glare at her. Pin her against the wall again. 

“Do you have plans for Christmas?” He asked, head tilted to the side with wild hair. He still had yet to fix it.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, another chapter so soon?!

"Pontmercy?"

 

Delilah blinked. She couldn't keep up with him. One minute he was about to kill her, was threatening her, then passive, acting like she didn't exist, and now he was asking her to come with him for Christmas break.

 

"No." Tom had to incline his head forward to hear her, Delilah spoke in a hushed tone so soft he thought he almost imagined it.

 

"You have already made plans for the holiday?" He asked. She nearly shook her head. Delilah felt melancholy grip at her, it was like a thorn in her side. She completely forgot about Christmas nearing.

 

There was nowhere to go. No one to spend the holiday with. No one to laugh with. No special Weasley jumper. No stupid Christmas carols with Ginny. No baking cookies with Luna. No watching muggle Christmas films with Harrison. There was no home to return to. It wasn't unusual for students to stay at Hogwarts over break. But this was different. Those students had a choice.

 

Delilah had nobody and nowhere to turn to. That impossible burn to cry grabbed hold of her again. Her throat felt tight and she looked away from Tom. Tears wouldn't come, she knew that, but a heavy weight was still felt behind her eyes. Dumbledore was nowhere nearer figuring out how to get her home, back to her own time.

 

Then a terrible thing happened. An awful, terrible thing.

 

Hopelessness.

 

Not in all the days, the years, her life has been threatened had such a drastic feeling occurred to her. There was always more to be done, more to achieve, there was always a light at the end. You just had to keep walking. But where was she to walk to? Delilah had been yanked back in time and placed in an environment completely foreign to her, she was vulnerable. She should've felt strong, she knew of the future after all, She should be taking her circumstances in stride, yet she had never felt so clueless.

 

Hopelessness is a terrible thing to feel. It weighed her down into the bed, Delilah was overwhelmed with the urge to just do nothing. Would it really be so bad if she just laid back, and let time take its course? She could live out the rest of her days in this time. Perhaps she could even live to the nineties? Delilah would be in her seventies by then. Would that really be so bad?

 

It wasn't like she was helping anyone. Sure, she was fighting for the Order, but she was only one person. And an insignificant one at that. She wasn't Harry; the chosen one, the boy who lived. She wasn't Hermione, the brightest witch of her age. They probably thought she was dead now, anyway. They'd mourn, but they no doubt moved on. They'd have to. There were more pressing matters like the war to worry about, not some seventeen year old girl who met an unfortunate end.

 

Tom stared at her. She had the face of young, perplexed pain. Her entire demeanor changed, it was as if he could physically feel her aura turn desolate. Royal blue eyes zoned out, focusing on a single fold in the sheets. Her knees pulled up to her chest, Delilah wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on top. Her shoulders shrunk inwards. She looked dejected, curled in on herself.

 

He hated it.

 

There was a clear picture of Delilah Pontmercy in his mind's eye. Back straight, brows set, tapping foot, always moving hands, conflicted blue eyes, gnawed lips, her pleased, all-knowing smile. The Delilah in his head was strong. She swore far too much, was comfortable in her own skin, beyond infuriating, and only ever questioned herself around him.

 

But the girl in front of Tom simply looked lost.

 

He knew something must've been genuinely troubling her, because when he made his way towards her bed, Delilah didn't even blink. She just sat, curled in on herself, staring. Tom stood a foot away from her bed for a moment, mentally debating with his better judgement before sitting on the edge.

 

"Where did you learn that spell?" He asked. Delilah knew he'd succumb to his curiosity eventually. "I read about it." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Tom was aware of this, but based on her current state, he didn't push. "You feel disgusted with yourself, do you not?" Delilah flinched at his blunt phrasing. Her eyes narrowed at him, she only just became aware of how close they were.

 

She sat curled up at the headboard and he sat poised at the foot of the bed. Perhaps they weren't that close, but being on the same bed made it feel that way. Delilah nodded, not trusting her voice. "You shouldn't be." He was talking softly, his usual conviction absent. Delilah shook her head and stretched her legs out, her feet just inches away from him. She stared at the blood coated socks, flashes of Tom twitching on the floor violated her mind. "I could've killed you."

 

Tom followed her gaze. Why was she still wearing those fifthly things? "You give yourself too much credit." He tsk-d. Delilah nearly snapped at him, but her breath caught on her tongue as she felt nimble fingers begin to tug the socks off her. He hooked a finger on the top lace trim, and pulled down so they rolled into a bunch. He took the left one off first, then the right.

 

She didn't know what to do.

 

"The moral is, strict adherence to a code is pointless." He waved his wand and the dirtied socks disappeared. Delilah felt strangely bare, he's seen too much of her mentally. And the soft, cool touch of his fingers through her tights haunted her, it was revolting yet enticing all at once.

 

"Rosier will be attending."

 

"What?" Right, Elio, her boyfriend. Guilt gnawed at her heart, they barely spent any time with each other. He devoted so much of himself yet Delilah found herself giving him nothing. He deserved someone who would grant him their undivided attention. Delilah was too scattered, and a relationship was honestly the last thing she needed. Home. That was her goal. She needed to get home. She knew she couldn't stay here forever, and leading Elio on any further would just be cruel.

 

"I have concerns about your hearing." Tom sighed, her attention span was annoyingly short today. He dismissed the glare she shot at him. "Avery Manor will be hosting the Yule Ball this holiday, and Avery has invited you." The lie slipped easily past his lips, rolling off his tongue as a second language. Avery didn't invite her, nor did Elio. Now that he thought about it, why didn't Elio invite her? Avery asked Lolita. He almost snickered. The two thought they were being discrete, but anyone could tell Avery and Lolita undressed each other with their eyes every time they were in the same room. Abraxas even asked a brunette Ravenclaw, Aurora.

 

A Christmas Ball seemed fanciful to Delilah. Too good to be true.

 

Getting dressed in an elegant gown, pinning up her hair, doing her makeup, dancing with a handsome boy, laughing with her new friends. Delilah couldn't have that even if she begged on her knees. No, she had to stay at Hogwarts. Research harder on why she arrived in 1943. Dumbledore's been doing all the work, really. If she had been trying harder, could she have already been back home?

 

The task seemed impossible. Delilah was smart, but she wasn't insanely brilliant or clever, not like Hermione. Not like Tom. She wondered if he had any ideas, if Tom was in her place, there was no doubt he'd have figured out the solution within a week at most. But no, telling him would be too dangerous. Delilah made a promise to Dumbledore. Any knowledge about the future to the wrong ears could ruin everything. Perhaps even create a paradox where she gets wiped from existence.

 

She paled at the thought.

 

What if she fucked the timeline up so badly she was never born? All her memories; her childhood, pushing Harrison from that tree house, her grandfather's funeral, getting her acceptance letter from Hogwarts, getting sorted into Ravenclaw, meeting all her friends, throwing Draco into the lake, spilling a potion on Harry, dancing in the astronomy tower with Luna, her first kiss with Blaise. She blushed, she had a lot of her firsts with Blaise.

 

They'd be gone. No one would remember her. No one would remember Delilah Meddows ever existed.

 

Sirius' death, gifting Dobby a sweater, Dumbledore's funeral, being trapped in the basement with Luna and Ollivander-

 

Delilah almost blacked out.

 

_No._

 

No she promised herself to never think about those few months. Those dreadful, nightmarish long months. She was so close to forgetting. Her back ached all the sudden, there were uneven gashes of scar tissue, stretched in an odd arrangement.

 

Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't human. She couldn't be, she might bleed red, but there wasn't an ounce of sanity or humility in that woman. That's why Delilah flinched every time Pyrrhus was called by his last name.

 

Delilah didn't think she was capable of torturing someone to the point of death, but there was a special place reserved in her heart for Bellatrix. She would never act on it, she had no right to. If anyone were to take her down, that belonged to Harry. She killed Sirius, his godfather, her cousin, the only parental figure left in Harry's life.

 

Of all days, why did those memories decide to resurface?

 

Tom noticed her rosy skin lose the warm hue, her breathing became shallow, and Delilah appeared to be trembling. What really have it away was royal blue fading to crystalline. Surely a Yule Ball wasn't the cause of her anguish. Tom opened his mouth, paused, then continued.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

Every cell in her body told Delilah to scream at him to go away. Tom couldn't see her like this, this was possibly the lowest she could reach. Those months in the basement at Malfoy manor had been the worst of her life, how she had the endurance to get through it was beyond her.

 

If Tom saw her break, really break, she had no idea what he'd do with such information. He certainly wouldn't comfort her, that was a notion lost on him, surely. Delilah didn't want his comfort if it was feigned. She didn't want anyone's pity. Would he mock her? Tell her she was weak for letting the past affect her? Weak for even letting herself be put in such a situation? Use it against her?

 

Delilah knew he wouldn't tell anyone unless he got some benefit out of leaking the information. He wasn't the type to spread rumors just for the fun of it.

 

However, he did hate her.

 

But if the roles were reversed, would she do the same to Tom? No, she couldn't. She hated him, yes. With every inch of her being. But Delilah would never stoop so low to inflict pain on others just to appease herself.

 

"Yeah." She breathed, tying her blonde locks into a messy knot. "I'm alright."

 

Tom sighed at the lie.

 

"And no." He was observing his wand, the only indication that he heard her was the quirk of one brow. "I can't go with yo- with Elio to Avery's manor." Tom turned to her, the sheets strained with the movement. "Tell him I said thank you for the offer, though." Delilah wanted to move away from Tom, but when she tried, she hit the headboard.

 

He didn't miss the notion and his lips pulled up slightly. She was afraid of him and he hadn't the faintest clue why. He was intimidating, he knew that, and he had the ability to hurt her, Tom proved that when they dueled. And she proved she had the capability of not only wounding him, but nearly killing him. Admittedly, he did let his control slip that one time when he pushed her into a classroom and pinned her to a wall. But that was the least of what he could do.

 

Delilah would make it so much easier on herself if she didn't analyze everything he did, if she let her curiosity drop, and just stay away from him.

 

But could he do the same for her?

 

No. He couldn't. How quickly he answered the question, and with ease, was slightly unnerving, but Tom dismissed it. She was fascinating. And every time he talked to her, something more interesting and strange got added to the mystery that was Delilah Pontmercy. And Tom indebted himself to putting each fragment together himself, piece by piece. Part of himself wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

 

As soon as he figured out who she was, he could move on and Delilah would no longer be a distraction.

 

But the other half wanted to drag this out, take his time, and savor it. He hadn't met someone so enticing in ages and he found himself almost not wanting to let go of such a challenge.

 

Tom nodded and stood up.

 

Delilah nearly frowned, the bed felt like a sheet of ice all the sudden. "I will notify Avery as soon as I see him, then."

 

_______________________________

 

As Delilah dragged herself to Dumbledore's office, Slughorn's yelling was still ringing in her ears. He was a furious blubber of a man when he bursted through the infirmary doors. Tom and Delilah had gotten a weeks worth of detention, which wasn't that bad considering how seriously they harmed each other. They also wouldn't be serving the detentions till after break, and Delilah hoped he'd forget about the incident until then.

 

Raising a fist, Delilah knocked once before the door swung open. "Are you alright Miss Pontmercy? I heard about your little predicament." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were soft as he stared down at her, it warmed Delilah to the core and she felt like hugging him.

 

She settled for a smile. "I'm alright, you wanted to see me?" Delilah was in no mood to talk about Tom any longer. Or anything concerning the past twenty four hours. "Ah," he clicked his tongue. "Yes, I've had a revelation."

 

Her eyes widened.

 

Had he figured it out? Was she going home? Merlin she felt like she was going to faint. She could go home. See the Order, tell them she was alive. See her family. See her friends. What would she tell them? A smile reached her lips, but it left as quickly as it came.

 

"A pensive!" He cheered and revealed a large, thin, bowl on his desk with a swirling liquid inside.

 

She wasn't going home.

 

Delilah scolded herself for being such a pessimist.

 

She wasn't going home. Yet.

 

As Dumbledore explained what the pensive was, she stepped closer and observed finely carved runic text marking the sides. She knew what a pensive did, but the man seemed excited so she let him ramble.

 

"If you allow me to see the memories, I can analyze them further and see if there is any background information we might've missed." He finished. Delilah nodded, that made sense. But unease fought its way forward.

 

Did he have to see everything?

 

Dumbledore must've read her thoughts by her troubled expression alone. "I know this can be difficult. Memories are a special, sacred thing to us all. But Delilah, however much your uncomfortable with, what you have in your head will help get you home." She knew he was right. But having someone else see everything she's endured, all the pain, she felt bare. Exposed.

 

But this was Dumbledore.

 

She could trust him.

 

"Okay."

 

He walked her through how to pull memories from one's head. She lightly placed the tip of her wand to her temple, focused, and tugged. She divulged what she could of the night of her death. Of the meetings that lead up to that moment.

 

It was too much. The memories felt new and vivid again. As if she was home. One after another came, some she didn't want anyone seeing, but they were already out. "Sorry." Delilah muttered, but he smiled softly and placed each memory of hers into a vial, labeling each as she described them. "I'll go through these as soon as I can, I'll call on you if any new information arises."

 

Before Delilah left, he stopped her in the doorway. "Be careful, Miss Pontmercy." His tone was strained and she furrowed her eyebrows. "Sir?" Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. "Hate cannot live on its own. It must have love as a trigger, as a stimulant. Be wary of who your affections lean towards."

 

She nearly huffed. That was Dumbledore, cryptic as ever.

 

The Slytherin common room was empty, all except a boy standing in the center with a bouquet of flowers and an embarrassed smile. "Elio?" A smile tugged at her lips at the sight of his flushed cheeks. He was adorable. "Evening, love." He handed her the roses and kissed her forehead. "Riddle told me you were alright."

 

Her lips parted in an invisible sigh. Why'd he have to mention Tom? His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close as looked down at her, pale green eyes soft as he smiled. "Are you busy?" He asked.

 

She should nod her head. Say yes, she was busy. Tell him this wasn't going to work out. Tell him she couldn't give him what he wanted. Tell him she couldn't offer more of herself. Tell him they should stop this relationship before one of them seriously got hurt. Stop this before he got his heartbroken.

 

"No, I'm not busy."

 

Delilah hated herself. How could she put Elio through this? To save herself trouble, to save her pride, she was too much of a coward to break up with him. It would only hurt him worse down the line. But he looked so content as he stood in front of her, arms holding her close, a smile on his face.

 

"Splendid, m'lady?" He offered his arm in an overzealous chivalrous manner. Her shame twisted in her chest like a knife as she looped her arm through his. "Why thank you good sir."

 

No matter how many times she asked, Elio wouldn't tell her where they were going. He led her outside, dusk was approaching and the sky was a soft purple. It was cold, but she didn't mind. Their feet crunched through snow and eventually they reached one of the greenhouses.

 

Elio opened the door and stepped aside, ushering her inside with a ridiculously pleased smile on his face. Raising a brow at the boy, Delilah walked inside and nearly tripped over her own astonishment. "Oh... oh Elio this is beautiful."

 

She spun around in a circle, the temperature inside was warm and comfortable. There were candles lining the middle table, casting the greenhouse in an orange glow, the frosted windows soaking in the light. Flowers of all sorts bloomed, the colors vivid and the floral scent engulfed her senses.

 

Something white caught her eye and she felt her heart stop. "Elio you didn't." He beamed at her and led her to the large blanket he laid out at the end of the greenhouse. There were simple snack foods, fruits, two sandwiches, pepper imps, and sugar quills.

 

Delilah smiled to the best of her ability. He really shouldn't have. Guilt was racking up. He was too good for, she didn't deserve any of this treatment.

 

They had a nice dinner, talked about the randomness things. He ranted about how infuriating Abraxas was before each Quidditch match, and Delilah talked about how amusing Slughorn was when he was mad.

 

_________________________________________

 

 

"Que será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Que será, será. What will be, will be."

 

Delilah sung the tune on repeat as she made her way to the library. It was well around two in the morning, but sleep wasn't granting her a visit anytime soon.

 

The irony of the song was nearly painful. 'The future's not ours to see.' It was strange when she thought about it. There was a truth in that lyric.

 

Even though Delilah was from the future, and had a broad understanding of what there was to come. She still had no idea what lies ahead of her. She doesn't belong here, that's why. Delilah was careful, but her presence alone had to have at least changed something. She just prayed it was minute.

 

"Planning to join frog choir?" A deep, sultry voice asked. Her eyes shut tightly and she counted to five before turning around. "Riddle, what are you doing here?" The moonlight filtering into the dark hall made him barely visible. A shiver ran itself down her spine.

 

He looked like a phantom.

 

He smelt more strongly of smoke, it wasn't overwhelming, but she felt herself leaning forward. "I should be asking you that, Pontmercy. You are out after curfew." Although Delilah couldn't see well, she could physically feel him smirking. "Yeah well, so are you."

 

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. Apparently she was on low stock of her usual witty comebacks. "I am the head boy, I can be out wherever I please past curfew." Her blonde hair soaked in the pale moonlight, making it take on a blue tint and her eyes glinted as if two stars were plucked from the skies. "Well in that case, be somewhere else and fuck off."

 

Tom tilted his head to the side, eyebrow raised. "I beg your pardon?"

 

Delilah felt like smacking him, and she didn't know why. Well, there were many reasons. But none to justify her current predicament.

 

No, she knew why.

 

His stupid face was an incessant presence during her date with Elio. The logical side of herself knew Tom technically had no say in the situation. It was entirely her own doing for thinking about him, she tried not to, but her attempts were fruitless.

 

"You're infuriating." Her voice was quiet, as if she was speaking to herself. Why did he have to have such a persistent presence in her mind. Why couldn’t he just be normal. Average. Boring. Not interesting. Not brilliant. Not frightening.

 

It'd make everything so much easier.

 

Why'd he save to stand there, two feet in front of her, looking so beautiful in the moonlight. There was no denying he wasn't physically attractive, Tom looked crafted by the gods himself. He walked stoic, confidence dripping off every inch of himself. Chin held high, dark eyes blazing.

 

She just wanted to talk to him, just once. Have a discussion and not want to rip her hair out or throw him out the window. What did he know? What knowledge was buried inside that brilliant mind of his? What were his opinions on weird and minute topics? If he could change the world, how would Tom Riddle go about it? What did he feel? Did he even feel anything? Tom was so insanely composed, Delilah was sure the only two things he ever felt were pride and disdain.

 

Another question rang in her head, extremely loud and incredibly close.

 

What did he want from her?

 

He had to want something. Anything. There would be no other reason for him to keep talking to her. Elio being her boyfriend wasn't a reason. The boys were hardly Tom's friends, they were more like colleagues, Tom only associated with them because they're useful. Their names put them in high places, they have connections. So why did he keep talking to her? Why bother? She obviously annoyed him to death. They nearly killed each other in class.

 

Sure, he was curious. Delilah was weird, something abstract from other people in this timeline. But surely there are a plethora of other people with similar characteristics. What would happen when that flame of curiosity went out? Would he ignore her then? Brush her off like he does with Olive?

 

Her stomach lurched at the thought. A part of herself didn't want to be dismissed like an old coat he only found use in once in awhile. She was unique in his eyes, and Delilah hated herself for liking it that way. Being in his line of interest was a dangerous game. But one she found herself willing to play.

 

"Walk with me." If it was meant to be a question, it sounded like a command. He turned and she found herself walking next to him. Her shorter legs trying to keep up with his long stride.

 

"I know you have a complete lack of trust in me." Tom's tone was painfully casual, as if he was discussing something as mundane as the weather. "That obvious?" She didn't want to look at him. She couldn't. So as she felt his eyes bore into the side of her face, she counted the cracks in the stone floors.

 

"I don't trust you, either."

 

Tom debated with himself if admitting that was a good idea. But the notion felt like a given. It was clear neither of them were fond of each other.

 

Panic grabbed hold of Delilah. Did he know something? Had he perhaps overheard a meeting with Dumbledore? Was he going to do something as brash as pinning her to a wall again? Before a ridiculous question could leave her mouth, he continued.

 

"You're probably confused." He sighed, as if he was taking to an incompetent child. She sneered. Delilah felt like nothing to him. Just another insect wandering beneath the feet of a god. An insect he wouldn't mind crushing if he simply felt like it.

 

"You're honest. You hold yourself above a standard. You tether yourself to humanity and empathy, leaching off of others misery to adhere to your code- don't look at me like that it's true. It's the way the world works. Empathy drives people. So they don't feel guilty for putting their own needs first, their own ambitions, what they want most in life. But it's people like you I have to watch out for. I'll never know when you decide to flip your morale and tell a lie."

 

Tom sighed a bit dramatically and glanced sideways at her. Soaking in the puzzled expression on her features. Her skin soaked in the the pale moonlight, making her almost seem like a ghost. "It is quite exhausting."

 

"You're unbelievable." Her tone wasn't harsh or disbelieving, but breathless. He raised a brow, silently urging her to continue. Usually he wouldn't be able to get her to talk, and he wasn't about to let go of an opportunity if he saw one.

 

"The way you view the world is fascinating." Her eyes danced towards the wall as they walked, mentally counting each painting they passed. "You're a hopeful pessimist. You see the ugly in everyone you meet, but you strive to improve yourself. Wanting to be better than them, which is ridiculous that you even think you have to try."

 

She didn't allow herself to blush.

 

He had the world at his disposal. What did it cost him? He seemed to lack a good portion of humanity, but thinking such a thing felt extreme. He was screwed up, no doubt. But brilliant.

 

What will he do with such knowledge? A ministry job seemed like the most logical, yet idiotic thing ever. He'd have the resources, but Delilah felt a government job would be too noisy. From what she observed, Tom liked to wait in the shadows before he pounced, only to turn back and wait for the next victim. A ministry job came with too many eyes watching.

 

Tom had possessed something inside her.

 

And she found herself not wanting to give it up.

 

Not just yet.

 

Tom hummed, he felt a strange sense of unease settle in his chest. Digging into his front pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and snapped his fingers to light it. Sucking in a deep drag, he blew the smoke from his nose and turned to look at Delilah. He was expecting her to have her nose scrunched in disgust, scolding him to put out the smelling tobacco. But her royal blue eyes only lingered on the curtain of smoke emitting from the cigarette, her eyes following the swirling movement.

 

He dangled it between his teeth as he spoke. “You don’t seem surprised.” Delilah shrugged as she watched the cigarette bob with the movement of his jaw.

 

“I can usually smell the tobacco on you.” He made a humming noise, as if in thought. She watched as he breathed in before pulling the rolled cigarette from his lips. The sight was a bit overwhelming. Tom’s head tilted back only slightly as white fog seeped from his lips, he looked like something out of a muggle film with a Rebel who didn’t care about the frantically spinning world around him.

 

“I like it though, so I never complained.” Stupid, embarrassing nonsense kept tumbling out of her mouth. His cheek twitched in what could be assumed as a restrained smile. “I’m trusting you not to share this information.” Was that amusement in his tone or was she going mad?

 

“I thought you didn’t trust me?”

 

Why was she smiling?

 

Mad. She was definitely going mad.

 

“Perhaps I can indulge you just this once.”

 

There. She wasn’t brooding or being philosophical. Her aura became lighter again and he felt a pressure lift from his chest. Delilah was easier to handle if she was in a decent mood.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter I’ve written?? I really hope you guys like it! And I’m so excited to get to the next few chapters, they’re going to be so fun to write

The library was relatively quiet. The sound of pages turning and scattered murmurs filled the atmosphere. All was calm, and Delilah felt a rare moment of contempt. She could almost pretend she was back home. 

Something lightly hit her head. She ignored it. Then again, something hit her head. 

“Psst.” 

Delilah gritted her teeth. Anything good that ever came her way didn’t ever last long, did it? 

“Psst, Del!” 

Sighing, Delilah closed her book and turned in her seat. Abraxas was leaning forward in his chair, his hair more wild than usual. He must’ve been messing with it. “What?” She snapped. He didn’t flinch, just smiled timidly. “Can we talk?” He asked. Delilah raised a brow but nodded. 

Abraxas shot up in his chair and practically sprinted out of the library. Well, he was obviously in a hurry. Delilah scrambled to get her things together and hastily chased after him, his long legs stalked down many halls, up stairs, and they reached the seventh floor. 

“The room of requirement?” She didn’t think anyone else was aware of it. Abraxas appeared just as surprised. “Uh, Yeah. I just wanted somewhere quiet where we couldn’t be overheard.” He paced in front of the wall a few times before a door appeared. He opened it and gestured for her to go in first. 

Her mind screamed at her to turn and run. But her legs moved forward. It was a decent sized room, more like a study. High ceilings, tall windows, and numerous bookshelves with two plush chairs. “What’d you want to talk about?” Delilah plopped herself in one of the chairs, not too elegantly and Abraxas laughed lightly. “I just wanted to hear your thoughts on something.” He sat himself down, his body language appeared stiff and anxious. 

Delilah quickly concluded he was nervous. 

“Well, I’m all ears.” She tucked her legs underneath herself, letting her body sink into the soft velvet. She watched as Abraxas tried to make himself comfortable, he shifted his weight every few seconds and his hands fumbled. A blush was also creeping into his pale cheeks. Delilah’s curiosity was building and she felt the urge to shake him, to yell at him to spit it out. 

“How do you know if you’re worth someone’s time? Not just their time, but, I mean their attention? How do you know if you’re worth their affections? For them to care for you?” He asked, the words tumbling from his lips quickly. She blinked. 

Why in the name of Merlin did he come to her for this? 

She took a deep breath, drawing her eyes away from him to look at the many novels surrounding them. “Why ask me?” Her voice echoed around the room, making her feel small. Abraxas shrugged. “I don’t know, you have a way of, well, never mind.” He shook his head at himself. 

“No, what?” She pressed. 

“You have a way of looking at Riddle, I just thought…” he trailed. Delilah felt her jaw go slack. Was he pulling her leg? The only way she ‘looked’ at Tom, was with loathing or annoyance. A nearly hysterical laugh pushed itself from her lungs as she doubled over. “Think nothing of it. I can’t stand him. He’s-he’s awful. And foul, he has no consideration for how he affects others, his morality is highly questionable, he’d probably kill me the second he sees an opportunity. He may be brilliant, and handsome, and charming, and enchanting, but he’s an emotionally manipulative little fuck, okay? And I hate him. And he hates me.” 

“That’s not true, Riddle’s had loads of times he could’ve killed you, but he didn’t. I recognize that’s not much. But he wants you around, y’know. He’d obviously never admit it. And the thing is, I’ve seen his hate. It burns like an immortal fire, you can see it in his eyes. And that is never in his eyes when he looks at you.” If Tom could hear this conversation, Abraxas had no doubt in his mind that he would send a killing curse his way. 

Shocked. That’s what Delilah was. She didn’t believe Abraxas, of course. How could he know the true depth of how Tom felt about her? She shook her head, if she thought too much about the possibility of Tom even remotely liking her, she’d get a migraine. “Enough about me, who’s this person you’re so conflicted about?” 

That blush returned to Abraxas’ cheeks and he cleared his throat. But his expression wasn’t one of embarrassment, he looked dejected, his shoulders shrunken in on himself as he sat slouched. “Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough to love someone? Or to be loved?” 

Yes. She could admit that to herself, but not to him. Not yet. “It’s just,” he let out a heavy breath and raked a hand through his platinum blonde curls. “Have you ever looked at someone and thought, “this is it,” just the sight of them enchants you, even when they’re not around. And when you kiss them the world goes fades, it’s just you and them. And you’d rather die than see them get hurt. But you’re afraid to lean on the feeling too much incase it crumbles. And then your afraid the whole world is gone and it feels like it wasn’t even there in the first place.”

Abraxas had never felt so vulnerable. He was laying his heart out and he was afraid some creature would burst through the door and stomp on it. 

For the first time in the four months she’s been in the past, Delilah felt like she was truly seeing Abraxas for the first time. He was a boy who loved deeply. And he might not even realize it. 

“Abraxas, I-“ She began but stopped short. His bright eyes wandered up to look at her, he seemed timid and Delilah offered him her best smile. “I don’t know your full circumstances, and I’m not going to ask you to tell me. You’ve already told me so much more than I’m sure you were completely comfortable with, and I just want to say thank you for trusting me with that.” She reached across the small distance between them and gripped his hands, running her thumb softly over his knuckles. 

“I can’t speak from experience. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way you do about anyone, but I’ve seen it. And it’s beautiful. And it’s okay to latch onto that raw feeling you get deep in your chest, don’t be afraid of it. It may seem terrifying, and it is. But grab hold of it and never let go. It’s an awful thing not to love, not to be loved, it’s a dreadful thing. And the fear of it slipping through your fingers is understandable. But if it’s real, it will last forever. Don’t let the opportunity die before it has the chance to grow. Run to it, before it flares and fades forever.”

Her heart ached at the sight of tears in his eyes. A Malfoy didn’t cry, they weren’t allowed such weakness. They were taught to be prideful, strong, and in control. Delilah imagined he wasn’t permitted to feel such emotions at home. She had a hard time believing the boy in front of her was the one to raise Lucius Malfoy. The boy in front of her wasn’t cruel or cowardly. He was a boy afraid to love, fearing the world would yank it away from him at laugh at his despair. 

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know.” Delilah let out a small yelp as Abraxas tugged her forward and into a bone crushing hug, he buried his face into her shoulder and she rubbed his back a bit awkwardly. She wasn’t good at this sort of thing. “Who?” She hoped he wasn’t talking about Elio, because she was the one who didn’t deserve him. 

“Riddle, he doesn’t deserve you.” He mumbled into her shirt. She was about to retort her same spew about how they hate each other, but Abraxas shook his head. “I’m not about to sit here and say I understand anything he might’ve put you through, but you give more of yourself to him than he deserves. He treats everyone like they’re an object, useful only when he sees fit. Yet here you are, not letting him tear you down like Olive. She gave him a part of herself and he crushed it into dust, and it ruined her. The poor girl has severe trust issues, you do know that right? And that’s Riddles fault.”

“By loving him, that gave Riddle the capability of destroying everything she holds dear. Anytime a boy smiles at her now she thinks they’re about to throw her to the side once they’ve taken what they wanted. But she keeps coming back to him. She tears herself apart just to appease him. And it’s not her fault. Riddle has an addictive personality. He makes you believe he might care, that he might consider your feelings just this once, that he might put himself second. But he won’t. And he never will. Tom broke Olive. And I’ll be damned if he ever does that you, Delilah.” 

She bit at her lip to the point where blood could be tasted. Her eyes searched between Abraxas’, why was he saying all this? “He won’t break me.” Her voice was quiet, Delilah wasn’t even sure if she said the words aloud. Abraxas sighed and playfully tugged at a few strands of her hair. “I hope that’s true. But we can’t control everything, especially those in the matter of the heart. And I know you hate him, you hate him as much as you’ll allow yourself to. But if something is forbidden, it’s all the more alluring. Be careful Del.”

_____________________________________

As she made her way back to the dormitory, Delilah was so engulfed in her thoughts she barely registered Lolita dragging her to her bed. Abraxas’ words kept bouncing around in her head. 

What part of herself did Tom not deserve? The way Abraxas was describing it, he made it appear that Tom might even be fond of her. Well no, not fond. She didn’t have the words to describe whatever their ‘relationship’ was. They weren’t friends, they weren’t enemies, they weren’t even acquaintances. But they weren’t indifferent to each other either. No, they were enraptured in one another. They studied each other, analyzed why they did certain things, found each other fascinating, found each other to be a complete enigma. They were drawn to each other it seemed. And neither could keep away for long. 

She was lost in the mystery that was Tom Riddle.

“Del, are you even listening to me?” Lolita tsk-d and lightly slapped Delilah’s cheek. The blonde blinked and only offered a hum. “We’re doing a self-pampering night, Christmas break starts in two days and since you’re being a bad friend and staying here, I want to spend some time with you. We barely see each other anymore.” 

Delilah’s lips tugged downward. She wasn’t meaning to come off as being a flaky friend. She’s just been so busy, and there were more pressing matters. Delilah cringed at how awful the thought sounded. She sounded like Tom. Putting other people’s feelings second because what was going on in her life was more paramount. Even though her circumstances were technically more important, she could still be more considerate. 

“I know, I’m really sorry-“

Lolita shook her head and stood up, making her way to her dresser to pick out a pair of pajamas. “Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.” Her tone was soft but the words still stung. “You deserve a break, love. You push yourself past the level of exhaustion and put up with a lot of bullshit. How you’re not completely mental by now astounds me. You deserve some fun, you deserve to dress yourself up and have your own little fairytale. It’s only two weeks, you have all the time in the world, there’s no need to overwork yourself.” 

Delilah knew she was right. And Dumbledore had awhile till he got through all her memories, plus actually analyzing each of them. Would it really hurt if she allowed this little holiday? 

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Lolita whirled around, a wide smile on her painted lips. “I can arrange that.” 

The next morning, she was greeted by Pyrrhus leaning over her bed and she nearly screamed. “What the bloody fuck are you doing in here?” She said tiredly, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. “I’m here to get your ass out of bed and take you dress shopping.” Before Delilah could protest, Pyrrhus grabbed hold of her waist and easily hauled her out of the covers she was wrapped in. 

He plopped her down rather harshly on her feet, not giving her enough time to gain balance. “Get dressed, we’ve only got so much time.” Delilah glared at him as she quickly found a pair of clothes and stumbled into the bathroom. A string of curses falling from her lips as she went. 

They made their way to Hogsmeade, feet crunching through the newly set snow. The village was fairly busy, people bustled from shop to shop, searching for gifts. Pyrrhus steered Delilah into a dress shop despite her protests to get food first. 

“What about this one?” She held up a pale pink dress with a sweetheart neckline and he scrunched his nose. “No, you’d look peaky.” Her jaw set and she shoved the dress back onto the railing. “Love, you’re not even trying.” He sighed and steered Delilah in front of a mirror by her shoulders. “Think of what tone you want to set when you walk into the ballroom. Who do you want to be? How do you want people to see your character?” He asked, messing with his hair in the mirror. Delilah shrugged, she didn’t really want to be seen persay. “Well I want you to look stunning. That way every man can see how absolutely ravishing you are.” He shoved her into a dressing room and told her to stay put, and for some reason she did. 

As they walked out of the store, the amount of ‘thank you’s’ that came out of her mouth was too much to count. He’d paid for her dress, which was ridiculously expensive. Delilah repeatedly told him no, she’d only be wearing the dress once. But Pyrrhus insisted. Saying he wanted her to look like a Queen at the Yule Ball. He even paid extra to have the dress delivered to Avery Manor so they wouldn’t have to carry it around and risk it getting damaged. 

“At least let me buy you lunch?” She asked. Pyrrhus rolled his eyes as they walked into a small boutique, small trinkets filled the shelves and the building felt ancient. “Fine.” She beamed at him as they walked down narrow isles. A flash of silver caught her eye and she felt drawn to it. 

It was a cigarette box, bright silver only dulled a bit by age. What really caught her eye was the beautiful etchings. There was a coiled snake biting into an eagle, and the bird held what appeared to be acacia flowers in its beak. And there was elegant curved scrawl above the image. “Amor Vincit Omnia.” She muttered. 

“Love conquers all things.” Pyrrhus said from behind her and she jumped. Delilah picked it up and the box was surprisingly light, she opened it and the inside had a thin black velvet lining. Pyrrhus offered to buy it as well but she told him to fuck off or else she wouldn’t buy him a butter beer. The threat was ridiculous, considering the boy could probably afford to buy the entire Three Broomsticks Inn and still have money to spare. 

They sat at a table nearest to the fireplace, talking about random nonsense and laughing at stupid jokes. The moment was ruined however when someone dragged over a chair and sat across from Delilah. “Riddle,” she greeted curtly, sipping on her warm tankard. “Please do sit down.” He could’ve at least asked to join them. 

Delilah felt uncomfortable around him all the sudden and she didn’t know why. Her discussion with Abraxas rang in her head. Tom felt too close even though a table was separating them. And she could almost feel him, feel his aura pressing down on her from all sides. It was intoxicating and the fire behind her suddenly felt too hot. “Good afternoon, Pontmercy, Lestrange.” Tom greeted, coolly ignoring her satiric attitude. 

“Afternoon,” Pyrrhus greeted, his eyes flickering between Tom and Delilah for a moment. “How have you been fretting this afternoon?” Delilah furrowed her brows. Tom was being awfully civil, it unnerved her. “Oh it’s been dreadful, Delilah is by far the worst dress shopper in the world.” The girl scoffed and nearly threw her butterbeer at him. “Only because you made me try on about fifteen dresses!” 

Tom quirked a brow. The image of Delilah being miserable in a heap of clothing in a dressing room was quite the amusing thought. She flushed slightly and sunk as far into her chair as possible. She really didn’t want to tell him, but she supposed he’d find out eventually. “I, uh, I changed my mind about Christmas.” She muttered. 

Tom inclined his head forward, acting as if he hadn’t heard her. “May you repeat that, please?” Delilah glared at him. “You heard me.” He blinked slowly, long lashes providing an alluring curtain over his dark eyes. “I’m afraid I didn’t.” Delilah didn’t miss the slight twitch in his cheek, indicating he was restraining a smirk. Oh how much she wished to smack him. 

“I’ve decided to go to Avery Manor with you.” 

“With me?” He asked, the smirk now invading his lips in an extremely cheeky way. Delilah scoffed into her tankard, her voice echoing inside the metal cup. “You know damn well what I meant.” She felt too hot, jumping into the snow seemed awfully appealing at the moment. 

The deep red in her cheeks was satisfying, and Tom took in her reaction and filed it away for him to keep. Teasing her always brought out the best reactions. Even better when she didn’t permit them, her body betraying her as a blush snuck past her defenses, or when her pupils dilate, her hands shake, and Tom can almost see her pulse quicken through the pale skin of her neck. 

There was a foreign swirl deep in his stomach at the notion he was the one to bring this reaction out of her. To his knowledge, he hasn’t seen her respond this way to anyone else. Not even Elio. 

He felt his smirk deepen. 

____________________________________

There was an incessant tapping on the door. Delilah groaned, fully expecting either Lolita or Olive to answer but they stayed put. Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled blindly to the door. It was probably a first year or something, a few of them have wandered up to the seventh years corridor because they couldn’t sleep or were homesick. 

Opening the door, Elio stood in the dark hall with a lantern and a smile on his face. Her eyes widened slightly and tugged at the shirt she was wearing, trying to pull it down as far as it would go. “Elio, it’s three in the morning?” Her voice was a whisper as she walked into the hall, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

“I know, sorry. It’s just, I wanted to spend some time with you before break.” He leaned against the wall, appearing to keep his eyes focused solely on her face. Delilah blushed slightly, feeling stupid for only wearing an oversized jumper to bed. Her brows furrowed, didn’t anyone tell him she changed her mind and was attending Yule Ball?

“Oh, well that’s sweet of you. But I am going to go, actually. To Avery’s place with you all.” His mouth formed a small ‘o’ and he nodded, somewhat resembling a kicked puppy. “Right then, okay. Um, sorry for waking you up.” He began to walk away and before she could stop herself, Delilah grabbed onto his arm and started to walk with him. “So, what’d you have in mind?” She asked. 

Delilah was well aware the only clothing she had on was an oversized shirt, her underwear, and socks. But nobody should be out at this hour, especially the day of departure for Christmas break. Not even prefects or professors should be up, patrol hours ended at midnight. “I thought maybe just popping down to the kitchens? Have you been before?” 

She nearly said yes. Delilah snuck into the kitchens a handful of times with Ron. And for a good majority of the battle, the kitchens were a decent safe haven. But she shook her head. 

Elio beamed as he tugged her down numerous halls, “you’ll love it.” The cold seemed to seep through the windows, chilling the stone walls, sending goosebumps all over her bare legs. She really should’ve put on more appropriate clothes. 

They reached a painting and Elio grinned at her before reaching forward, tickling a pear and the canvas swung forward. “Lady’s first.” He gestured, but Delilah shook her head. “I’ve only got my knickers on under this, you go first pretty boy.” A cruel satisfaction filled in her stomach as a deep red bled its way into Elio’s cheeks. He was a flustered mess as he stumbled through the entry and nearly tripped over an elf. 

Delilah watched the blush drain from his face as his pale green eyes landed on something. 

“Oi, get a shift off.” Lolita said, practically wrapped around Avery. Delilah furrowed her brows, she thought Lolita was back in the dormitory. “How’d you?” She trailed and her friend rolled her eyes, shimming out of her lovers hold. “Ever heard of shoving pillows under the comforter?” 

Delilah ignored her sarcasm and turned to look at Avery, his tanned cheeks were flushed, his hair disheveled, and his lips swollen. “Elio and I will leave you two then.” She shot a wink at Lolita as she grabbed Elio’s hand, disregarding his protests and the choice of middle finger from her dorm mate. “Thank you!” She heard Avery call just as the canvas swung shut. 

Laughter bubbled in her chest and as Elio looked at Delilah, walking through different hues of moonlight, he couldn’t help but smile. How could he have gotten so lucky? For one, she was stunning. Intelligent, witty, kind, a ridiculous sense of humor, and her singing was dreadful but he couldn’t imagine it being any other way. He was enamoured by her even when they were separated. Her smile would taunt him throughout the day, sneaking past his defenses when he should really be paying attention in classes.

But as he looked at her, he came to a sudden realization. 

Elio didn’t have the faintest idea of who she was. 

He knew nothing about her, not really. He knew the version of herself she showed at Hogwarts, but he couldn’t judge. Because it was the same vise versa. Delilah barely knew anything about him. 

“Tell me about yourself?” He asked suddenly. What took Delilah aback however, was that it was stated as a question. She was so used to people, no not people, Tom demanding things. “What do you want to know?” Nervousness pricked at her sides and she shoved it away as hard as she could. This was Elio, she could trust him. 

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and his eyes lingered on a few paintings they passed. “Anything. Your family, friends, dreams, fears, what your favorite bug is, I don’t know, the lot.” His easy going smile threw her off. How could people like him still exist? He was a species nearly lost. The only other person she knew who had a similar aura to Elio, was Luna. 

They were walking towards the astronomy tower mindlessly. “Well, I don’t get along with my parents too well. Mainly my mum, but that’s every teen. I have an older brother, Harrison. He’s only two years older though, but he acts like some enlightened god.” Elio felt his heart pick up pace at the sound of her laugh, it sounded more genuine than anything he’d ever heard. “I miss my friends, so fucking much.” Delilah sighed heavily. 

She’s never actually talked to anyone about this. Sure, she talked to Dumbledore, but just about theories and facts. She hasn’t opened up to anyone in nearly four months, and she hadn’t even realized how much weight it put on her shoulders. “Are they…?” Elio trailed carefully, not completely sure how to approach such a subject. 

“No...well some. Y’know, because the war effort.” She wasn’t technically lying. Delilah suddenly laughed at the peculiarity of it all. There was always a war going on, wasn’t there? An endless cycle in world history, no one ever learns from their mistakes, they just keep repeating their actions and blame it on circumstance. Pinning the blame of their wrong doing on their opposers or other minority’s who can’t properly defend themselves. War was no longer something dictated to bring peace to the world, it was solely based on prejudice and politics. It was disgusting. But it was reality. 

“What are their names? If you don’t mind me asking.” He said softly. Elio was treading extremely carefully. He wanted her to open up to him, and if he screwed up the first time, he feared she’d never give him the opportunity again. Delilah was letting him in. Something he knew was a rarity. 

“My best friends name is Blaise, you’d either love him or hate him.” She forced herself to laugh lightheartedly. Saying his name aloud sent a pang through her chest and she nearly doubled over. “Then there’s Luna, she’s quite the remarkable girl, and she has the most dazzling eyes and dreamy voice. She could calm anyone down or send them into a frenzy just by looking at them.” Delilah missed Luna dearly, she was about the only thing that kept her sane in those months she was a hostage. 

“Then there’s Draco. Oh Merlin he’s a handful. I pushed him into a lake one time because he was being so insufferable. But I can’t seem to stay away from him for too long.” Draco was a spoilt brat but was put in terrible circumstances, Lucius forced his son into something that was much too big for a teenager. None of Draco’s wrongdoings were his fault. She knew that. 

“Hermione I miss dearly, she’s the smartest witch I’ve ever met and has the kindest heart. Although her judgement is sometimes askew and she doesn’t tend to look towards the impossible. But that’s my job, I guess.” A warm smile tugged at her lips. Delilah couldn’t even count the amount of times she quoted Sherlock at Hermione. They’d be arguing, trying to figure out a solution and Hermione always just refused to acknowledge any answer that didn’t fit logic. And Delilah would push back saying, ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ And she’d smirk at the annoyed expression that would brush her friends features. Hermione loved Sherlock so it was such fun to use it against her. 

“Ron, that boy could eat anything you’d put in front of him. And he’s brilliant at Quidditch but he never thought so. Despite our efforts in encouraging him. And he’s such a good friend. He really is. And Harry,” Delilah’s voice cracked despite her efforts. Elio touched the small of her back lightly as they made their way up the stairs of the astronomy tower, as a sign of comfort. 

“He’s been put through the worst of what life has to offer. Moment by moment it seems like the universe has another thing to throw at him, but always he perseveres. And he never loses focus of what matters, family and friends. The world puts him through hell but there’s still a lightness in him, despite all the evil that tries to extinguish it. He’s done so much for me and I’d give anything to repay him.” Harry got the heaviest amount of hate and attention from the Wizarding world. And none of it was his fault. He warned everyone about Voldemort’s return, yet the Ministry called him insane and delusional because they didn’t want to deal with any inconvenience. And look at what that cost them. A war with casualties too high to count. Her mind wandered to all those she’s lost. 

“Cedric, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Lupin, Tonks, Dobby, Fred, Lavender, Colin…” Delilah nearly let Dumbledore’s name slip. She took a deep, shaking breath. Elio’s heart dropped once he realized what she was listing. All those who she knew, who she loved. Had she really lost that many people? By looking at Delilah he couldn’t have ever imagined she’d gone through so much. She always smiled lightly, always cautious of how she affected others. She’d lost so much yet she was still kind. Elio knew of many people who suffered from losing a loved one and turned cruel. He knew from first hand experience with many members of his family. 

“Xavier, Paul, Lucas, Masie, Caroline, Mare, Zach, Klaus, Nico, Evangeline, Reid, and others. Many others. But they’re okay now, their days of suffering are over. So it’s only rational I keep looking forward.” Delilah mustered a smile as she looked at Elio, his solemn expression deep. He was surprised Delilah wasn’t crying, she wasn’t even tearing up. “No point in dwelling on the past.” How ironic. Yes, why dwell on the past when you can just live through it? 

“I’m sorry,” Elio began but she shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Don’t apologize for something you took no part in. And I know you meant to say you’re sorry for me, sorry for what I might’ve been put through. But please, don’t be. I hate it when people do that.” Delilah couldn’t stand pity. She knew she was being a bit harsh. Elio was being empathetic, showing her he cared for her wellbeing. “Enough about me, what about you?” 

They reached the top of the tower, there was a three-sixty view of Hogwarts due to the high windows circling the room. It was cold, the winter winds biting at the small seems in the windows and seeping through the wood. Elio lit a few lanterns which set the observatory in a warm glow and helped to warm the air. He didn’t answer her, so when she turned around, she found Elio standing there with a hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me?” He asked. She smiled and tried to ignore how painful it felt. “To what music?” He tilted his head to the side, light brown curls ruffling with the movement. “Pick whatever song you like and play it in your head, and I’ll do the same. We can have our own little ball. Call it a rehearsal, I need to know how bad of a dance partner I have.” Her mouth twitched at his joking manner, Elio held an easy smile and gestured for her to come closer. 

Her mind screamed at her to walk away and go to bed, but her hand landed in his and he tugged her forward. Elio did his best to ignore how she was only in a shirt, pair of mismatched socks, and her hair a golden mess. He placed a hand on her back and the other held her own hand in his. Delilah placed a light hold on his shoulder and they swayed to no other sound than the wind rattling the windows. “I don’t get along with my parents, either.” Elio started. Delilah was confused for a moment, she nearly forgot she asked him a question. 

“Their aspirations are different from mine, to say the least. My whole families are, actually. But I get through it the best I can.” Elio had never told anyone this before. Not even his closest friends; Avery, Pyrrhus, and Abraxas. Tom didn’t count. Though Elio was sure he could see through him like glass. “They have this ideology that makes no logical sense, but it’s been embedded into their heads for generations, which isn’t an excuse. But I guess I can’t completely blame them.” Delilah felt her breath catch in her throat. She knew he was talking about pureblood supremacy, and Elio saying he didn’t agree with it nearly made her want to tackle him in a hug. 

“If I went against them however, they’d disown me. My family is all I have.” Delilah placed her hands lightly on the nape of his neck, messing with the smalls curls. “You have your friends, what about the other boys?” She asked but Elio simply chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “They’d take me in, but their families are just the same. As soon as any of their parents got wind of my ‘betrayal’ they’d either kick me out as well or kill me.” Delilah wanted to argue. Saying they wouldn’t kill him simply for disagreeing. But she knew it was fruitless. Sirius’ parents disowned him and he was only sixteen. His own cousin killed him. 

They fell into a peaceful silence, Delilah laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his chin atop her head. “I’m not a pureblood.” It was said so quietly Delilah wasn’t even sure if she actually said it out loud. A part of her feared he’d freeze, push her away, spit at her, curse her. But he’d said he didn’t agree with the prejudice against blood, and he cared for her, and Delilah trusted him. “Okay.” The words weren’t forced. They sounded like someone had just told Elio it would rain tomorrow and he simply accepted. Elio didn’t even ask her to specify if she was a Half-blood or muggle born. Delilah’s heart ached, why couldn’t she care for him the same way he does for her. Of course she cared for him, but her affections didn’t breach past the level of friendship. 

He spun her once and she laughed lightly before resting against his chest again. Elio hummed a tune, his eyes shut lightly and his pale skin took in the orange glow of the lanterns and the blue of the moonlight. 

“Am I interrupting?” 

Elio and Delilah flinched, turning both their heads to look at the figure in the doorway. She felt her teeth grit so hard her jaw ached. Why must he ruin everything? “Shove off Riddle.” 

Tom simply raised a brow and leaned against a banister, shoving his hands in his pockets. His cheek twitched as he took in the sight of her. Her jumper was a deep emerald green and reached just above her mid thigh, the collar hung loosely around her neck to reveal a peak of her collarbones. His eyes trailed down her bare legs and rested on her socks. They were a heavy wool, one was striped blue, the other a solid bright yellow. Dark eyes dragged up again to meet her royal blue eyes and flushed cheeks. He noticed she had stepped away from Elio. Whom was looking rather dejected at the space now between them. 

“May I inquire why the pair of you are out past curfew? And trespassing? Rosier I would assume you’d know better, another strike and you get Quidditch probation.” Elio felt disgust pool in his chest as the satisfied glimmer in Tom’s eye. He wanted to tell him off, scream at him, hex him. But he couldn’t. And Tom knew this, he savored it, and used it against him. 

Tom inclined his head towards the staircase. “Off you go before I change my mind.” Elio gritted his teeth and felt Delilah grip his hand, which calmed him exponentially. They started to walk but Tom held up his hand. “Just you, I need to speak with Pontmercy.” Before Elio could do something stupid, Delilah squeezed his hand and gestured for him to go on. “I’ll be fine, I’ll meet you in the morning before we get on the train.” With one last look at Tom and Delilah, Elio hesitantly made his way back to the Slytherin dormitories. 

Once he was sure Elio was out of earshot, Tom turned towards Delilah and sighed at the furious glimmer in her eyes. “You’re infuriating!” She bit in a harsh whisper. He leaned his head to the side, eyebrow raised. His voice dropped to a whisper as well, his tone mocking, “I know.” Delilah rolled her eyes threw her hands up, attempting to put as much distance between them. 

Her nerves were on hyper alert and she felt extremely sensitive with her senses all the sudden. She was barely wearing anything and being alone and so close to Tom was a tad bit overwhelming. She knew he wouldn’t do anything physically, but he had a way of looking at her that didn’t set her at ease. “You can’t just do that to him. Threaten to take away one of the only things that he actually enjoys.” That was a stupid thing to say and Delilah was well aware. Of course that would be the perfect thing for Tom do to, if he took Quidditch away from Elio, it’d leave the boy miserable. Which was probably the exact thing Tom wanted. “How do you even get up in the morning knowing everyone hates you? Knowing people only help you out of force. If you ever needed genuine help, if your life was on the line, who would help you?” 

Delilah wasn’t expecting an answer. What she did expect was for him to glare at her, curse her, maybe they’d even fall into another duel? But Tom parted his lips and the words rolled off his tongue easily, as if he was bored. 

“You would help me, apparently.” He let himself smirk at the annoyed expression that took over her features. “You are the most destitute person I know. And I’ve met a lot of pathetic people.” 

Delilah’s mind reeled. Did she really just call Tom Riddle pathetic? Her hand reached for her side but-fuck. Her wand was sitting on her dresser. Tom stalked forward and Delilah’s socked feet slipped on the stone flooring as she scrambled away from him. They passed through the double doors and ended up on the icy balcony, the wind bit at her bare skin and her teeth started to chatter. Soon enough she was out of room and her back pressed into the railing, the ground was nearly a hundred feet below. 

Tom stopped directly in front of her. So close. Too close. His dark brown eyes turned black as he stared down at her, his lips pulled in an animalistic snarl. “Pathetic?” The words dripped heavily from his lips, heating up the space between them with a dangerous aura. His wand wasn’t drawn, but that didn’t calm the fire that felt like it was burning her alive. Both hands were placed on the railing on each side of her, his body trapping her. “I have let you get away with many things, but do not think for a moment you have the jurisdiction to claim me as a person of vulnerability and in need of pity.” 

Delilah was scared, and she was sure he could see it in her eyes. A trembling breath pressed its way out of her lungs, her eyes flicked quickly between his, brows set, his dark hair had white flecks trapped in each curl. Delilah felt her fear melt away just like the snow seeping into their clothing. 

“What happened to you?”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Why do you care?" Tom felt the cold bite through his skin but he ignored it by focusing on the fact that Delilah must be freezing. If he just focused on her fear and her pain, he could ignore his. "I never said I cared, I'm just curious. You're the way you are...so what happened to you?" Delilah tried to move away, but his arms wouldn't budge from the railing. 

"Don't deflect." He bit venomously. That dangerous energy cracked around him again, even more powerful than the time in that abandoned classroom. Delilah shook her head quickly, "I'm not deflecting. I'm serious. What the hell happened to you? You act the way you do for a reason. And I want to know why." 

She froze as his hand lifted. He was about to hit her, she was sure of it. Delilah closed her eyes, bracing for the impact, but a hit never came. No, what came next was much worse. 

His fingers danced lightly over her neck, dragging them upwards. They felt too hot against her cold, wind bitten skin. Tom traced the line of her jaw softly before his grip tightened, it wasn't painful, but he wasn't letting go anytime soon. "Look at me." He ordered. 

Tom watched as her eyes hesitantly fluttered open, snowflakes were dusting her lashes and her eyes seemed to be glazed over. "What makes you think you have any right to ask such a question?" His deep voice cut through the wind, his hand still gripped her jaw and Delilah was sure he could feel her rapid pulse. "Pontmercy you need to get rid of whatever fanciful hope you have deeply embedded into your system, because it's never going to happen. You can't look at the first person you see who doesn't adhere to your moral code and want to dissect and fix them."

"I'm not trying to fix you, I just want to know-" She began quickly but Tom cut her off by pushing her head back with his hand still holding her jaw firmly. Her upper body leaned dangerously over the edge of the railing, her soaked socks losing their grip on the ice. "Want to know what? Why you think I lack empathy? What, you think I must have an attachment issue or something else of the sort? Sociopathic tendencies? Antisocial? Or maybe you think it had something to do with my childhood? Poor Tom Riddle must have suffered through something tragic. Perhaps he was abused? Maybe you'll come up with some other sad excuse for my behavior." His tone was cold and her heart sank, a beat of silence passed before she worked up the courage to speak. "Were you?" She said slowly and he pushed her a bit further and her stomach gave a lurch at the drop below her. 

"For Merlin's sake, Pontmercy. That's not the bloody point. We're not friends, not even remotely." 

"I know that."

"Then why do you keep trying!" He shouted and Delilah flinched. She'd never actually heard him raise his voice before. "Constantly you ramble nonsense about my character, about why I do things, what motivates me. You think you know me so well. But you haven't the faintest clue. Do you even realize how insufferable you are? And how disgustingly desperate it all seems? You won't even admit to yourself you find me attractive. That's the reason why you can't stay away from me. And it's not from your feigned curiosity about my 'troubled' psyche." 

Delilah felt pure anger, the death drop below her wasn't even a concern at the moment. "No, you're the one who doesn't have the faintest clue. Yes it's true, you're attractive. I feel like that's a pretty obvious fact to the whole fucking world. Get over yourself! Merlin, you are the most narcissistic and conceited person, it physically makes me want to gouge my own eyes out. But you're wrong." Tom raised a brow, fully willing to push just a little further and watch in satisfaction as she plummeted to her death. 

"I am curious about you. Are you really that oblivious? You're an interesting person, a cunt, but interesting. You see the world in such a twisted way I can't wrap my head around. There has to be circumstances of your past to contribute to who you are now. And Tom, I don't pity you. I won't feel sorry for you. I never will. You don't deserve my attention, but you have it anyway. You've become so accustomed to disguising yourself, you can't even recognize who you really are. And that's no way to live. Who are you when no one is around? Do you even recognize yourself? You are pathetic but-" a scream cut off the rest of her sentence as he shoved her forward. Her toes fought desperately to grip onto the ice but it was a pointless attempt. For a split second she thought she was actually about to die, she was about to plummet nearly a hundred feet, have her skull shattered, her back in fragments, blood soaked snow. 

Her brother suddenly appeared in the forefront of her mind. Smiling like an idiot as the tried to ride a bike when he was ten and she was eight. When was the last time Delilah told him she loved him? She couldn't remember. All of her friends came next, all those she never got to say goodbye to. Even her new friends in this time period. Abraxas, Pyrrhus, Cain, Elio, Lolita, even Olive. And what about Dumbledore? Would he figure out what happened? Would he miss her? She was losing everything all over again. 

But two hands grabbed her arms and pulled her away from the edge just as quickly as the thoughts came. Her breathing was frantic and her mind was in shambles, the after effects of terror still in the works so she didn't register how she'd buried her face in Tom's chest, her nails digging into his back through his robes. "Why?" Her voice was muffled by his shirt. 

Tom was so stiff he nearly resembled a statue. Delilah was wrapped around him and he felt incredibly vulnerable and he detested it. But his arms stayed put at his sides, he could feel her shaking an awful lot. She was also cold to the touch and for only a moment, Tom worried she'd fallen ill again. But it must've just been the air biting at her exposed skin. "This is simply who I am." His voice was so quiet, Delilah barely heard it over the wind. Tom felt Delilah shake her head and her grip grew tighter. Peppermint was invading his senses and an uneasiness washed over him. He needed her to stop touching him. "That's not an answer." 

He leaned away from her as much as he could, eventually prying her arms off, he could still feel where her nails dug into his back. His eyes wandered over the clouded night sky. The forbidden forest looked even more haunting with its trees hanging heavy with snow. "Yes it is. It's just not the one you wanted to hear." 

He should've let her fall. 

_________________________________________

As everyone boarded the train the next morning, Delilah felt like she was a dead person walking. She only had about an hour of restless sleep before Olive had to force her to get up, and Lolita had to convince her to wear actual clothing instead of pajamas. 

They piled into a compartment, and before Delilah could lock the door, a girl with tanned skin and curly black hair entered. "Hello!" She greeted in a heavy Irish accent, and held out a hand to Delilah, who shook it awkwardly. "Hi...do I know you?" The girl blushed and shook her head, taking a seat next to a confused and annoyed Olive. "Oh probably not, we only had a few classes together. I'm Aurora Fahey, seventh year Ravenclaw." She held out a hand to Olive, who simply stared at it before ignoring the poor girl. 

Aurora didn't seem offended, though. She sighed and offered her outstretched hand to Lolita, who thankfully shook it. "I'm attending the Yule Ball at Avery Manor as well, and just thought it'd be easiest to sit with you all instead of trying to find you when we get to Kings Cross." 

Delilah raised a brow at Lolita in question, but her friend only shrugged. "Who're you accompanying?" Olive asked, showing a bit more interest. Her and Pyrrhus decided to go with each other, strictly as friends however. He said he'd throw himself off a tower before he ever kissed Olive willingly. That remark earned him a smack to the cheek. "Abraxas asked me." She beamed. Delilah's eyes widened slightly and she fought down the grin threatening to spill over. So this was the girl Abraxas was gushing about when he dragged her up to the room of requirement. She eyed Aurora over, the girl was gorgeous. 

She was tall and had a figure Delilah would give anything for. Her hair was black and in tight ringlets, making her hair appear shorter than it probably was, her eyes were a warm brown with golden flecks, and her skin was a bronze that complimented her blue robes. Delilah felt a sense of forgotten longing as she looked at the Ravenclaw uniform. She should be wearing those same robes, but there she was, decked in emerald green. 

Stupid sorting hat. 

Then again, being in Slytherin wasn't nearly as bad as people might think. She remembered how Ron rambled incessantly about how everyone in the house of snakes was evil and couldn't be trusted. Even though he was eleven and had never actually met a Slytherin in person. And the first one he did meet was Draco, which admittedly wasn't the best of an example. Still, he shouldn't have held such a prejudice. Ron, Harry, as well as many others held an illogical hatred towards their rival house. 

Honestly, the amount of shit Delilah got for befriending Blaise was ridiculous. 

"It's lovely to meet you." Delilah sat next to Lolita, who insisted on braiding her hair repeatedly because she was bored. "We also need to get our nails done," Olive chimed as she observed her already well manicured fingers. "Lita, did Avery hire a handmaiden for our Ball preparation?" She asked. Delilah furrowed her brows and turned her head towards Olive, only to have Lolita forcefully turn it back so she could continue styling it. 

"Why would we need a handmaiden? Can't we get ready ourselves?" To her surprise, Aurora laughed lightly. "Maybe for a school dance, but this is a proper Yule Ball, we need to look our best." Delilah frowned slightly, this Ball was a much bigger event than she was expecting. "Who all is attending?" She asked. "Most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, family friends, Ministry members, and other business men who seek to make deals. It's very political despite it being a traditional holiday event. Plus it's a popular time for proposals." All the girls blushed expect for Delilah, who simply raised a brow. But the girls didn't seem to notice. 

"Oh Merlin, I'm so nervous. Do you think I'm getting my hopes up?" Lolita asked, accidentally tugging on Delilah's hair a bit too harshly. "Avery would be a fool not to ask for your hand, besides, you two act as if you're betrothed already." Olive said casually and Delilah nearly choked. "Betrothed? You're already thinking about getting married?" Now it was the other girls' turn to look confused. 

"Of course, we're already a bit behind as is. It's typical to get married right after school. I wouldn't be surprised if Elio popped the question soon." 

Delilah's vision went black for a few seconds. She couldn't fathom getting married at such a young age. And to Elio? He would make a wonderful husband no doubt, but she wasn't right for him. "Unless, of course you're just dating for fun. Which is fine, but I'd let him know that before he gets the wrong impression." Aurora patted Delilah on the shoulder with a warm smile that was motherly. 

_________________________________________

Elio was the last to make into the compartment, the rest of the boys were already seated and Tom sat poised near the window, a passive look in his eyes. "Finally, you look like hell." Avery said as he observed the chess table that sat between Abraxas and himself. "Late night?" Pyrrhus asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Elio didn't allow himself to blush as the memory of Tom interrupting his dance with Delilah entered his mind. 

When he met up with her this morning before they boarded the train, she looked exhausted. He worried Tom might've done something brash, but Delilah said nothing happened. Elio didn't trust Tom being alone with her, for fear he'd hurt her. He wouldn't put it past Tom to lose his temper and set the cruciatus curse on her, Merlin knows he's done it loads of times on the boys. Elio shook his head at the image of Delilah writhing on the floor in pain. No. He would never let that happen. Besides, Delilah had proved she could handle herself just fine. He had to trust her. 

"What are the rooming arrangements?" Tom said suddenly, effectively silencing the compartment. "We're all in the same hall, including the girls. But the top floor I've managed to sanction off for private use. Lestrange your room is next to mine on the left, Rosier yours is on my right which is at the very end of the hall. Malfoy yours is across from my room, Riddle yours is next to his. Then Pontmercy is across from Riddle's room, then next to her is Hornby, Fahey, and Lita." Avery shifted under his friends' gaze. They didn't look too content with his arrangement. "What?" 

"Why not just put our dates in the same room?" Abraxas asked slightly annoyed. "Because my parents would have a fit on etiquette, you can sneak your girl into your room at night as you wish, but for appearance sake I had to separate everyone." Avery would've gladly just have Lolita in his room, and he would, but his parents didn't need to know that. 

Tom inwardly sighed at the notion Delilah would be right across the hall from him. It was no matter however, he would most likely spend his time on the top floor. But Avery was right about appearances, he'd have to spend some time with rest of the boys or else he might appear 'rude' to the other guests. And such an impression wouldn't do good for why he was even attending this ridiculous event in the first place. He was there to make connections, and hopefully find a job that would benefit him with the right people. And there was no better place to form this plan than at a party with drunk aristocrats. 

His dark eyes trailed over to Elio, who seemed to be silently fuming. There was no doubt Elio didn't agree with Delilah being so close to Tom's room, and so far away from his own. It was childish to bask in the hatred Elio held towards him, but he couldn't help it. He stood up and the boys fell back into silence. "Where are you off to?" Abraxas asked and Tom looked back at the platinum blonde as if he was an incompetent child. "Head Boy duties. Feel free to flounce off towards your lovers, I won't be back until the end of the ride." With that he left out the door. 

"I really don't like him sometimes." Avery muttered as he stood up, attempting to fix his hair in the dull reflection of the window. "I really don't like him all the time." Pyrrhus chuckled and shoved his friend out the door. "I wouldn't bother trying to tame your hair, we both know Lita has a hair pulling fetish." Avery whirled around, his cheeks red. "And how would you know that?" Their rambling continued as they made their way down the train. 

"And you hate him." Abraxas said as he waved his wand, clearing the chess board. "That obvious?" Elio mused as he shrugged off his school robes and threw on a blazer with his family crest on it. "Please, you look like you want to kill him every time you're in the same room. I'm surprised he hasn't hexed you yet for it." Despite himself, Elio shivered. Why hadn't Tom done that yet? Usually, if someone even gave him the slightest bit of cheek, they'd be limping for a week. 

The boys left their compartment and started down the train. "So, how's you and Aurora going? Well, I'm assuming?" Abraxas seemed to lighten at the mention of her name. "Well enough, we haven't exactly made anything official." 

"Do your parents know?" He asked and Abraxas shook his head. "No, not yet. They will soon enough considering they'll be at the Ball. I don't think they'll mind too much, she's a pureblood, just not from a highly common family." Elio nodded and paled a little. Right, he kept trying to forget his parents would be attending as well. He hasn't told them about Delilah. They'd love her no doubt, she was a likable girl, but she wasn't a pureblood. He didn't even want to imagine their faces if they found out. They'd make him stop seeing her, but how they would try to do that, he had no clue. There was no shortage of cruelty in his family, so he wouldn't put anything past them. His own aunt is Grindelwald's second in command. A fact he would never allow anyone to know. Especially Tom. 

They reached the girls' compartment far quicker than Elio thought and he was suddenly nervous as Abraxas knocked. The door slid open and Lolita was already gone, alone with Avery in some sanctioned off part of the train probably. Abraxas' eyes immediately landed on Aurora and his face stretched in a boyishly charming smile, one Elio didn't even know he was capable of. "Ah, the beaus have arrived." Olive said dryly, her feet were resting in Pyrrhus' lap, who in turn was reading the Daily Prophet, ignoring the world around him. Olive and Pyrrhus were surprisingly good friends, despite how much they say they hated each other. 

"C'mon," Delilah smiled at Elio and looped her arm with his. "Where to?" His chest felt lighter at the contact, he always felt better when he was near her. "Our own compartment, before you and Abraxas showed up, Olive and Pyrrhus wouldn't stop bickering. It was driving me up the wall." There were no empty compartments, but they managed to find one with a group of three first years. Delilah felt a tinge of guilt as Elio told them to leave, but he gave them each a galleon, which they seemed content with. 

The door barely shut behind them before Delilah felt herself being pushed lightly into the wall. Lips were on hers and her mind went fuzzy for a few moments. Elio pulled back, his cheeks a rosy pink and he smiled down at her. "I've been wanting to do that for ages." He leaned his forehead against hers and Delilah's chest tugged uncomfortably. He was such a sweetheart, and she'd never met someone who was genuinely interested in her. An idea popped into her head, she hated it, but she couldn't help but think, just maybe. 

Delilah smiled warmly and pressed up on her toes to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Just maybe, if she fully let herself fall into this relationship, she could feel the same way back. 

She tugged on his hair and a barely audible groan sounded from his throat. She felt his hands wrap under her thighs as he lifted her, pressing her harder into the wall so she wouldn't fall. 

Just maybe, if she kissed him everything would be alright. She wouldn't feel guilty. 

He pulled her away from the wall, their heavy breaths passing between two lungs. Elio sat down on one of the plush seats, arms wrapped around Delilah's midsection as she was straddling his waist. He had just buried his hands in her hair when the sound of the door opening met their ears, followed by a whistle. 

The couple jerked their faces apart and found Abraxas trying not to laugh, Pyrrhus was silently doubled over, Olive was smirking, Aurora covering her own smile, and Lolita looked strangely proud. "We aren't interrupting, are we?" Abraxas mused at the flushed appearance of them both. He felt bad for barging in, he knew they rarely got any time together. Elio ran a hand through his hair, trying his absolute hardest to ignore how Delilah was still straddling his lap. "Oh no, it's not like we were in the middle of anything." She tsk-d. People were fond of interrupting her and Elio apparently. 

Footsteps approached and Delilah felt her blush deepen further and a dark pair of curls peered around the door. She felt Elio's grip tighten on her waist as dark eyes passed over and analyzed the pose they were in. "Dear me, two students caught in a compromising position? It'd be a shame if I had to write you two up yet again." Tom said passively, savoring the detestment in both their eyes. "We-" Delilah began but Tom turned his back to address the rest of the group. 

"We'll be arriving in London in an hour, make sure all your possessions are ready. Avery, we'll be flooing from the Leaky Cauldron, correct?" He asked, Tom could practically feel Delilah's gaze burning into the back of his skull. Avery nodded, his eyes shifting over to Delilah as she got off Elio, both muttering swears under their breaths. 

They spent the last hour on the train playing chess, snacking on some treats from the trolly, and just rambling other nonsense to pass the time. Delilah resolutely did her best to ignore Tom, who in turn appeared to be ignoring her as well. Not only were the events of last night still fresh in her memory, but he'd seen her in, as he put it, a 'compromising position'. At least he didn't actually walk in on them like the others. 

Just before the train pulled into Kings Cross, Delilah changed into another set of clothes. She obviously didn't own anything remotely forties appropriate, so courtesy of Dumbledore, he provided her with a large array of clothing. It was strange as she got dressed, she felt as if she was going to a themed party. The high waisted skirt, fine blouse, and leather shoes felt too formal compared to her usual attire. She wished jeans were acceptable in this time period, but the image of her walking out in skinny jeans would've been deemed inappropriate. 

Delilah didn't even think about how different the world would actually be. But the sight hit her full on as they exited the train station. Hogwarts was still Hogwarts, barely any physical change could be seen throughout the years. But forties, war-time London was a sight to behold. The tall skyscrapers, sleek cars, and other small technologies she was so used to seeing were absent. Diagon Alley wasn't a far walk, but as they made their way down the busy streets, Delilah couldn't ignore the heaps of rubble that were once buildings. Some even possibly people's homes. 

It was a reminder that Muggle warfare could be just as catastrophic as those in the Magical world. At one point they passed by what used to be a library. The roof was collapsed, and the front wall was blown out. But the walls still stood with books lining its shelves, some burnt, but what surprised her most was the people still browsing the titles inside. Shoving the burnt wood and other fragments out of the way to get to a novel that caught their eye. Delilah found herself smiling. 

No matter what damage the enemy might try to inflict, the spirit can never be taken out of people who still have faith. Even in the simplest things, like a book. 

Tom was watching the people as well. It was a curious sight. He knew how devastating the night raids were, unlike the rest of the group. They all had homes far away from any distraction. But Tom usually had to spend his holidays in London at the orphanage, he's been through the blitz in person. As he stared at the burnt and battered library, he could almost faintly hear approaching planes, the whistle of a bomb falling, almost feel the building shake with a nearby explosion. An uneasiness settled itself inside inside him, and Tom shoved it away. 

Finally, the Leaky Cauldron came into their line of sight. Muggles passing by were indifferent, completely unaware of the Inn's existence, not batting an eye as nine teenagers seem to disappear into thin air. 

They each flooed in pairs of two to Avery Manor. Abraxas and Aurora, Avery and Lolita, Pyrrhus went to the bathroom, so Olive went with Elio, albeit hesitantly. Delilah's heart sunk once she realized she would have to floo with Tom. He simply raised an eyebrow at her as he picked up his trunk and stepped into the fireplace. Delilah felt rooted to the spot as she stared at the small space left next to him. "We don't have all day, Pontmercy." He sounded slightly annoyed and that was enough to lighten her mood. Only a little. She sighed and stepped in next to him, her body much too close to his, and she felt her legs go weak when Tom looped his arm through hers. She swallowed thickly and grabbed a handful of floo powder. 

"Avery Manor!" 

Her body gave a lurch as green flames engulfed them, their bodies tugged in every direction and a dizzying feeling took over her. Just as quickly as the feeling came, it was gone and they landed in a larger fireplace that was white marble. Delilah stumbled a bit, but since her arm was looped with Tom's, she was able to quickly find her balance. She tugged her arm from his and smoothed out her skirt, ignoring his dark gaze that was heating up her cheeks. 

It was a pity, really, how amusing it would've been if she fell. Tom mentally sighed as he stepped out of the fireplace, Delilah's clumsiness never ceased to be a source of his entertainment. 

When Delilah collected her thoughts, she stepped out of the fireplace and her mouth fell open at the sight of the room they were in. The ceiling was high and had a beautiful fresco of a meadow, and a massive chandelier was hanging that set the room in a warm glow. The far left wall had floor to ceiling windows that provided a nice view of the front gardens, which seemed to stretch on for miles. The rest of the walls were dark red, and the encrust was gold, other paintings hung on the wall, some portraits, others landscapes. There was a massive mirror and chest on the right wall, and in the middle of the room sat velvet couches and chairs for lounging. A large white rug spread along the floor, masking the red wood floors. If this was how one room looked, Delilah couldn't even imagine what the rest of the Manor might look like. 

Tom watched as she took in the room, her eyes glazed over in awe. Even he could admit the beauty of the manor, there was a different sense of elegance Avery Manor had compared to Malfoy's. Although their manor was vast, it had a darker aura, being mostly decorated in black and grey. Most would assume the darkness of Malfoy Manor was more suitable to Tom, but he actually found himself more drawn to this place. The structure was similar to Versailles in the notion of overzealous amounts of gold and displayed wealth, with other characteristic accoutrement. 

The large oak door suddenly opened and Avery peeked his head in. "There you are, I don't know why you didn't floo into the same fireplace as the rest of us." He gestured for them to follow and Delilah didn't want to leave the room, but picked her bag up nonetheless. She nearly tripped over her own feet at the sight of the hallway. She could spend hours just roaming this place and never cease to be amazed. A part of herself was elated Yule Ball was being held at Avery's place instead of Abraxas'. As fond as she was of him, she didn't think she could manage being in that place again. Not after the torment Bellatrix put her through. 

"You'll have plenty of time to wander around the place tomorrow." Avery laughed lightly at Delilah, her jaw was practically dragging on the floor. She felt like she was at a palace. "Your room is just there," he opened a door to reveal a room larger than two of Hogwarts dormitories combined. "Merlin this place is fucking gorgeous." 

"And this is your room, Riddle." Delilah felt her joy melt away as she whirled around and saw Tom entering the room right across from hers. The hallway was about six feet wide, but it still felt too close. Why couldn't Elio be in the room across from hers? That way she wouldn't have to worry about being murdered in her sleep. Then again, a room down the hall wouldn't stop Tom from sending a killing curse her way. 

"Dinner is in an hour, I'll send an elf to fetch you when it's time." He sent an apologetic smile to Delilah as he made his way to his own room. Delilah caught sight of dark hair as he opened the door and she scoffed. Of course Lolita got to share a room with her boyfriend, yet there she was, six feet away from a lunatic who was too attractive for his own good. Her gaze turned towards Tom, but before she could get a word out he stepped into his room and shut the door. 

Deciding nothing bad could happen, Delilah raised a certain choice of finger at his door before walking into her own room. 

She felt a smile tug at her lips. It was large and had white marble flooring with a black vein like pattern running through the stone. She had her own fireplace that matched with marble seamlessly. There was a dresser, wardrobe, and nightstand, all a dark mahogany that matched the wooden frame of the massive bed. The sheets were a deep, silk purple, and not being able to resist, Delilah dropped her things and ran towards the bed. As she fell into the sheets, the silken fabric felt like cool water against her skin. Her eyes landed on the ceiling and she let out a laugh of disbelief. Above her was a fresco of horses racing in slow motion through thundering clouds, lighting cracked every few minutes. 

As she stared longer at the moving image, she realized it was the four horsemen of the apocalypse, or at least an interpretation of it. The horse to the far left was a sandy pale color, then a horse with a crimson hue to its fur, then a beautiful white horse that seemed to be glowing, and finally the lead horse was a massive black stallion, it had a haunting sheen to it as it stood on its hind legs. 

Just as another crack of thunder lit up the ceiling, someone knocked on the door and Delilah screamed. The door proceeded to burst open and she was met with a frantic looking Elio, who's wand was drawn and his eyes flickered around the room. "What's wrong? You alright, love?" Once he realized there was no immense danger, his wand fell limp to his side and he raised a brow at her. Her hand was rested above her frantic heart and she mustered a smile. "Sorry, you caught me off guard." She didn't know why, but her nerves were on high alert, like they were when she was in the midst of the war back home. Something about the fresco unsettled her, even the beauty of it. 

"Dinners ready," he walked over and tugged her off the bed. Her brows furrowed as her eyes went towards the window, the sun was setting. Had she really been staring at the ceiling for an hour? "C'mon," Elio grabbed her hand and led her down many halls and two staircases before they entered a massive dining room. "This place will never cease to amaze me." She muttered, staring around the large room in awe. 

The rest of the group was already sat at the long wooden table, and two people Delilah could only assume were Avery's parents were sat at the head of the table. "I found her gazing up at the wall." Elio mused and took a seat, promptly tugging her along with him. Much to her dismay, she was sat across from Tom. "You must be Miss Pontmercy." A soft voice said, effectively pulling Delilah from her thoughts. Her eyes shifted and found Avery's mother smiling at her with dark red painted lips. The woman was beautiful and barely showed any lines of age. She had the same tanned skin as Avery, though a bit lighter, indicating she didn't get much sun. Her hair was light brown and pulled into an updo, tightening her skin. Her eyes were a deep brown that had a feline element to them and were a tad bit intimidating. 

"Yes ma'am, it's lovely to meet you. Your manor is beautiful." Delilah thanked Merlin she spent so much time with Blaise and his family, he'd taught her a few important keys of typical pureblood etiquette and she hoped she was pulling it off. Her back was straight, her shoulders pushed back, chin held high and her eyes slightly downcast, with her hands placed lightly in her lap. If the rest of her friends were surprised, they didn't show it. 

"Thank you, my dear. And please call me Aelia. We're so glad to have you all, and what an honor it is to be hosting Yule Ball." She gripped her husband's hand and smiled at him. Avery's father was a much more harsh looking man. His dark hair was slicked back, his cheeks sunken in, and his eyes appeared to look through everyone. "An honor, indeed. Though why we're allowing certain groups into our home is beyond me." Mr. Avery gruffed. Delilah raised a brow at Elio, who simply shrugged. 

"I know dear, but it'd be foolish not to invite them, they have reputable wealth considering their tainted blood." Aelia said with a sigh. Delilah felt her body go stiff and she forced herself not to react in any way that might cause suspicion. "Which family, may I ask?" She said in a deathly calm voice and ignored the look Tom was giving her. Well it wasn't really much of a 'look', but there was a strange feeling in his gaze. Aelia leaned forward, happy for a chance at some gossip with another woman. 

"The Broadmoor family, it's honestly tragic what happened to them, if only their grandmother didn't whore around with that filthy muggle she met. And the disrespect of the circumstance as well! She met him while on a family holiday in Venice, oh the shame she brought on her family. Ruining centuries of pure blood. And to make it worse, one of her children, Xavier, who's only a few years our senior, married a mudblood! It's not even fathomable. The amount of disgust overwhelms me. How can any noble wizard even think of touching a creature as such?" She shook her head but smiled as the food appeared in front of them. 

It looked delicious, but Delilah lost her appetite. Despite all the years she's put up with pureblood fanatics, it was still hard to believe people actually believed there was a line of superiority based on blood. How could they think muggle borns and muggles were lesser? They were still people. Magic or not. Delilah looked around the room and came to a sudden realization. If any of her friends found out she was a half-blood, would they still be kind? Would they still be friends? Or would they spit at her, call her derogatory names, even hex her? She knew Elio wasn't a pureblood supremacist, but what about the others? She wasn't ashamed of her blood status, but Delilah couldn't even imagine not having her new friends around. Despite all the warnings Dumbledore gave her, she'd grown attached to them. 

"And the nerve of the Ministry, you'd think with the rise of Grindelwald they'd no longer allow those vermin into Hogwarts. And Merlin, even walk the same halls as you! Please tell me they at least had the decency to separate the dorms?" Aelia appeared to faint at the thought of a muggle born sleeping in the same room as her son. Pyrrhus shifted a bit in his seat, eyeing the rest of the table before he cleared his throat. "No, ma'am." Avery's mother seemed unnervingly relieved. Delilah wanted to throw a plate at the woman. 

A part of herself wanted to hop into the table, dance around and scream she was a half-blood, hex her into oblivion. But instead she forced herself to eat a few bites of dinner, each swallow harder than the last. "I can't seem to wrap my head around how wizards are comfortable breeding with such filthy little things. What's next, werewolves?" Mr. Avery bolstered with a laugh, followed by a few forced chuckles from the group. "Tom my dear, tell me, as Head Boy, how do you put up with such nonsense?" Aelia asked. 

Delilah turned her gaze towards Tom, head tilted to the side. Her curiosity for how he would answer burned her chest. Some small, very small, part of her hoped he'd tell them off for being so inhumane. But that would be too good to be true, Tom was no doubt just as bad as them. But then again, Delilah's never heard him say anything concerning blood status. So maybe. Just maybe. 

Tom felt the cold burn of her gaze on him as he set his fork down to look at Aelia. Delilah was handling this well, he didn't know if he was surprised, relieved, or disappointed. Tom himself was a half-blood, but he put on such a convincing facade of a pureblood aristocrat, no one ever questioned him. He'd be damned before anyone found out his true heritage. 

He quickly contemplated how he'd answer. His usual response to such questions came quick and easy to him. But Delilah's royal blue eyes were setting off a strange uneasiness inside him. Making Tom double take on the words that wanted to leave his mouth. If he said something considered offensive and belittling, Delilah would no doubt be mad at him. Maybe even furious. But it wasn't like she hasn't felt that way before. After all, she's stated a handful of times she hated his guts. 

But would insulting her blood be crossing a line? Tom found himself tiptoeing around such topics when she was around, it was absent minded and he chose to ignore the action, simply justifying his behavior as being cautious, not kind. He couldn't care less if he hurt her feelings. But if he were to cross a boundary, would she talk to him again? Would she permanently keep her distance? Ignore him as if he wasn't even there? The thought detested him, but he shook it off. He would not allow Delilah of all people to dictate how he acted. 

"I must say, it's a tad bit exhausting." He let himself laugh and gave Aelia a charming smile. "The amount of mudbloods flooding in each year is growing more vast, and some half-bloods are managing to force themselves into certain elite societies." Delilah felt her blood go cold as that crude name for muggle borns fell easily from his lips. Elio noticed how her grip had grown right on her fork, knuckles gone white this the force. He took hold of her hand and gave it a light squeeze, which seem to calm her down a bit. She gave him a slight, forced smile. He too was surprised at how well she was handling this dinner, but was a bit concerned for how she was to handle such conversation for two weeks. He pulled her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and basked in the red tint coming into her cheeks. 

Delilah was beyond grateful for his comfort and made a mental note to thank him later. She couldn't believe Tom and felt stupid for having any hope whatsoever that he might have a shred of decency in him. He nearly threw her off the astronomy tower the previous night and here she was, being an idiotic optimist. He had shown her on more than one occasion he wasn't the same charming person everyone believed him to be. Hell, she's even pointed that out a number of times. And to think, she saved his life. 

She really was an idiot. 

"The impurities are so obvious, it's laughable." Olive said with a light sigh as she picked around some of her food. Delilah's eyes snapped towards her and she nearly let a frown tug at her lips. Her and Olive weren't the best of friends, but all in all she didn't think she was that bad. "They're clearly unworthy of possessing such gifts, and the nerve of them to think they're our equals? And the blood traitors are just as foul, stooping to a mudblood's level of filth. I see that as a sign of weak magic, showing they clearly aren't worthy as well." 

Delilah had to repeatedly tell herself to calm down, her breathing grew frantic and she tried her best to tame it, but it was rather difficult. If any of her other supposed friends said anything remotely derogatory about blood she might pass out or need to leave the room. She could make up an excuse, like a stomach ache, her head hurt, she was tired, or maybe something as simple as having to use the lavatory. Would that be improper? Honestly at this point she didn't care. This conversation alone was improper. 

"What's next, will half-breeds be allowed to attend Hogwarts?" Mr. Avery said as he downed a glass of fire whiskey. Tom sighed and shook his head, dark curls swaying with the movement. "I'm afraid Hogwarts has already stooped that low, although it was expelled." Delilah felt her last strand of tolerance wear thin. The mere fact Tom called the person an 'it' made her grow rigid yet again. "Oh, yes! Thanks to you, of course. I mean, what would they expect letting a half-giant into the school? What was his name again?" Aelia asked. 

"Rubeus Hagrid." Delilah couldn't stop her eyes from widening and her mouth falling slightly open. She quickly cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "What happened?" She recalled Hermione telling her something faintly about Hagrid's days at Hogwarts, but it was vague. A matter that was obviously private to the half Giant, and only those close to him knew about it. 

Tom shifted his eyes to Delilah and quirked a brow at how pale she looked, her voice also held an almost undetectable waver. She looked ill. Before he would answer, Aurora leaned forward. "Back in fifth year there was a series of incidents on students, one was even killed, and Tom found the culprit, Hagrid, with a beast he'd been keeping in the school. It was this whole ordeal, words written in blood on the walls. Looked like something out of a horror novel." 

Delilah's mind reeled at the image of Hagrid setting a beast loose in a school with the intent of killing someone. That couldn't be true. It wasn't true. Hagrid had been blamed for almost the exact thing when she was a second year, but he was innocent. 

Then how-yes! Now she remembered. Hermione told her Hagrid was falsely accused and expelled from Hogwarts, but Dumbledore argued against the charges and got him to be a gamekeeper for the school. But then that means...

Her eyes found Tom's again and there was new found anger and level loathing which burned deep in the blue pools. Tom had wrongly accused Hagrid of murdering a student and got him kicked out of Hogwarts. And he called Hagrid a half breed, he called him an 'it'. 

Tom didn't miss how dark her eyes had gotten, they nearly looked black. A sudden look of surprise flickered on his face but he quickly disguised it. 

He had definitely crossed a line.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all buckle up this is a long one! I believe there’s around 12,200 words in this chapter?? Which is insane, they just keep getting longer. I hope you enjoy! [SEE END CHAPTER NOTE FOR NEWS ABOUT UPDATES]

The next morning, Delilah was wandering the halls when she came upon a large arch way carved from stone. Once she neared it and was able to look inside, a wide smiled pulled her lips back and a laugh tumbled out from her lungs. "Now that's just showing off."

The library was massive. It wasn't bigger than the Hogwarts one of course, but the ceilings were higher and were intricately carved. Corinthian columns stood at the end of each isle to hold up the ceiling, and at the top of each was a statue of a kneeling person, appearing to hold up the roof with their backs. It was beautiful but Delilah had a sick feeling that was probably supposed to represent a muggle.

She wandered down numerous rows and her mind raced with all the new titles, some incredibly dark. Books such as these would either be in the restricted section at Hogwarts or purely banned. Her curiosity got the best of her and she tried to reach for a book on blood magic that was on the sixth shelf, but even on her toes it was a fruitless attempt. She didn't have her wand with her, which was quite stupid and really growing to be a bad habit.

In her bout of struggle, she failed to notice the footsteps approaching. A pale hand reached out directly above her and easily grabbed the book she was trying to reach. Delilah yelped in surprise and spun around to find Tom standing barley a foot in front of her. Instinct kicked in and she backed away, only to knock into the bookshelf. He didn't move away, nor did he come closer. Not like it mattered, there's was probably only ten inches at max between them.

He studied the old and tattered book, the pages yellow with age. "Blood Ritual Magic? Quite dark for you, isn't it?" He was met with her steady gaze, her expression blank. He hated it. Usually if Tom did something like this, even just standing close to her, he managed to get at least a small twitch of a reaction. But she was giving him nothing.

"May I have that?" Delilah held out her hand and now it was his turn to stare at her. He realized he'd crossed a certain boundary after dinner last night, seeing as every moment afterwards she acted as if he didn't exist. He was annoyed at the fact that he was annoyed. He shouldn't care, and Tom kept telling himself he didn't. But watching her eyes pass over him as if he was just anyone else, someone she didn't know, someone she took no interest in, it made his stomach give an unpleasant lurch.

"Riddle." She snapped her fingers and made a grabbing motion for the book, as if she was telling a five year old to do something. He raised a brow at her. "Did you just snap your fingers at me?" He promptly crossed his arms over his chest, tucking the book against his side. Delilah ignored how his muscles pulled against the fabric of his shirt. She wasn't use to seeing any of the boys out of their school uniforms, it was a bit overwhelming.

"Yes, or are you blind? You're acting like an incompetent child. Now give me the book." She bit. Tom tilted his head to the side, purely amused. He was just content with getting a reaction out of her that he decided to let the insult pass. He sighed and pulled the book out in front of him, Delilah made a grab for it but he pulled the novel back. He raised his brows at her, as a silent sign to wait.

He flicked the book open to a random page. He's read it before, but it had been about two years since the last time he was at Avery Manor.

It was a fascinating study, blood magic. And was rarely used in the modern era, considering there were easier and less dangerous means of conducting some rituals. The spells were complicated and intricate, only those with high intellect and patience could achieve the level of sophistication needed.

And oh how he itched to experiment with it.

"Did you know blood rituals often involve a symbolic means of death and rebirth, as literal bodily birth involves bleeding? It's a fascinating study. There's also a few rare cases where a wizard has gained the capability of blood manipulation-"

"It was a witch, actually." Delilah scolded herself mentally for even talking to him. But despite herself, her curiosity was peaked.

Tom yet again brought up the topic of rebirth or immortality. Their conversation all those months ago in the Three Broomsticks was still fresh in her mind, how Ouroboros reminded her of the Death Eaters. That pang in the back of her mind struck again, similar to the time she first heard Tom's name. A familiarity. Like she should know or recognize something.

"I find it curious you know about the story." He said, no matter how much she annoyed him, Delilah was full of mysteries he couldn't simply dismiss. "And I the same for you." Delilah lifted her chin as a means for defiance, though it didn't really appear to be much considering he was a foot taller than her.

"Really?" He mused and put the book back on the high shelf, well out of her reach. "You appear to have my character so well figured out, I thought you would've known such a topic intrigues me." Delilah narrowed her eyes at him as he rested a hand on the shelf directly next to her head, effectively cutting her off from exiting. "Well it appears we're both disappointments."

Tom bit lightly at his cheek, her behavior was growing a tad irksome. Could she really be that mad about what he said last night? What was she expecting, for him to tell off Avery's parents for their blood views they've been raised on for centuries?

Whatever last bit of hope she had in him, he'd torn it to shreds last night. Was she herself a muggle born? He didn't think so, she was too powerful and even he could admit, brilliant. Even if she didn't think so herself. He knew certain blood prejudice was illogical. He wasn't a pureblood, yet he was the most skilled student in Hogwarts.

But he couldn't dismiss the filth of muggle blood. A hatred for it was embedded deep in his heart thanks to his disgusting excuse of a father. And although his mother was a pureblood witch, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, she was weak and succumbed to the charms of a handsome man who could offer her nothing. And she forced his hand in love. His mother should've known better, falling for a muggle only brought her torment and eventually death.

Delilah held her breath at the look on Tom's face. It was distant, and for the first time, she was witnessing Tom Riddle with his guard down. He was lost in thought, his eyes seemed a lighter tint of brown and unfocused, his usual tight jaw was relaxed, and he was biting at the inside of his cheek. For the first time, he looked his age, he looked like a teen with boyishly charming features, and an uncharacteristic innocence seemed to relax his face.

She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. But Delilah feared if she spoke, the trance would be broken. Burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes spread out through her hollow chest as a strange sense of comfort took hold of her. His scent was growing to be a familiarity.

"Del, you in here?" Cain's voice echoed off the stone walls and the spell was broken. Tom stiffened up again and blinked at how close they were, his face was merely six inches from hers. Peppermint overwhelmed him and he backed away. Delilah cleared her throat and shuffled away from Tom, her heels clicking loudly as she made her way towards Cain's voice. "Yeah, I'm coming."

Cain was waiting in the archway with a large envelope, the Hogwarts seal looked like blood against the yellow parchment. "This came for you," the weight of it was surprisingly heavy and she thanked him. It wasn't signed by anyone, but her name was written in a slanted elegant scrawl that could only belong to one person.

Dumbledore.

_________________________________________

 

Delilah cursed under her breath and practically ran to her room, she knew she shouldn't have come there. Dumbledore said he didn't exactly approve of her going, but he didn't see the harm. Had he figured something out? Was he having second thoughts on letting her go to Yule Ball? Did he want her to return to Hogwarts? "Why am I so stupid?" She muttered and fumbled with her door for a moment before stumbling inside.

She threw herself on the bed and ripped open the letter.

_Dear Miss Pontmercy,_

_I apologize for interrupting your holiday so soon, but certain matters have arose that I cannot push off until your return in two weeks. As promised, I have gone through most of your memories now, but there are a select few I need to discuss with you, to get a more in depth view and explanation. I'm afraid some are rather vague, and though I'm sure you had good intentions, it has come to my attention you have altered some as well. And in order to come to a conclusion to get you home as soon as possible, I need you to allow me to see everything clearly. I have already requested for a floo opening in your room to direct you straight to my office at eleven this morning. I understand that hasn't given you much time, and I do hope this letter will reach you soon enough. I can't be sure how long this meeting will take place, but as a precaution I suggest packing some clothes in case you have to stay the night._

_And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd like you to ask Mr. Avery if he can acquire some lemon pastries?_

_I look forward to what this meeting will reveal,_

_Dumbledore_

Her mind raced at what memory she could've possibly tampered with. She didn't do it on purpose, but whatever memory she did try to change, it had to be for good reason. It was most likely the months she was being held at Malfoy Manor, she didn't want anyone seeing that point in her life. She didn't even want to see it again. If she did, it would be like reliving those months of hell.

Her back began to ache again at the mere thought of that dreadful year, and Bellatrix's maniacal laughter echoed in her head like a siren. Her hand reached behind her, she could feel the slight bumps of scar tissue through her light blouse and a shiver shook her body.

She didn't see why it was important for Dumbledore to see that part of her past. Perhaps she could talk him out of it? No, that would be pointless. She couldn't recall Dumbledore being talked out of anything. The clock chimed and it was ten o'clock, she had an hour. She read over the note again and felt a small smile tug at her lips. He at least seemed to be in a decent mood.

"Um, hello?" Her voice bounced around the empty room, she wasn't sure on how to call upon the house elves. But not a second later, there was a loud crack and an old elf appeared with large, bright green eyes staring at her. "Does missus Pontmercy require anything? Gilroy would be most happy to assist!" He bent down in a low bow, his pointed nose nearly touching the floor. Delilah smiled slightly as she remembered Hermione's s.p.e.w club, the amount of socks she knitted that year was quite impressive.

"Good morning, Gilroy." The house elf wailed slightly and his eyes began to water, but he sniffed away the tears. "Oh, Missus is so kind already!" He cheered and bowed yet again. "I was wondering if you could ask the kitchens to prepare a small batch of lemon pastries? And maybe put them in a basket? I have to leave in an hour and would appreciate it greatly if they could be ready by then?"

Gilroy nodded, his large ears flopping with the quick movement. "Oh yes of course, Gilroy would be happy to serve you! I'll make sure they're right on time and wrapped nicely, especially for your kindness! Oh, Missus is so kind." He continued to blubber as he snapped his fingers and disappeared. Delilah felt herself frown at the notion that he, as well as many other house elves, were treated poorly. Like lesser beings, like vermin. She wondered if she could find a way to free him, but would he accept? She's come into contact with many elves who refused to be freed, they knew no other life.

With a heavy sigh, she waved her wand and packed an overnight bag in case she'd have to stay at Hogwarts. She didn't feel like running around the manor to tell everyone she had to depart. Plus, she had no idea what to tell them. She could send a Patronus, but Merlin, would that arise some unwanted questions.

"Oh, y'know. I'm just running off to have a secret meeting with Dumbledore about how I time traveled from the future. Did you know I was killed by a Dark Wizard? No? Oh well it's a fascinating tale. But I didn't die, instead I ended up in the forties! And I've been stuck in the past for four months with a fake name, a fake past, a fake story, I've been lying to you all!" She rambled to herself as she tried to fix her hair in the mirror. Yes, that would definitely blow over well with everyone. A part of her mused at the thought of telling Avery's parents they were a bunch of conceited, blood prejudiced cunts. Oh, how horrified they'd be! But that daydream would not happen today, sadly.

Walking over to her dresser, she wrote a quick note explaining she was visiting a friend and would possibly be staying the night. That was convincing enough, at least she hoped so.

Nearly an hour passed, and ten minutes before eleven there was a crack that made Delilah jump from her chair. Gilroy presented her with a large basket, steam rolled out the top, peaking through the seams of the quilt. The smell of lemon zest danced around her and she smiled at the elf as she took the basket, taking a pastry out and offering it to him. "Thank you Gilroy, and if anyone asks where I went, tell them I left a note." Gilroy nodded as tears spilled from his large eyes, he seemed hesitant to take the pastry, but Delilah wasn't leaving till he took it from her fingers. "Oh, Missus is so kind." He offered her a bowl with floo powder and she grabbed a handful before stepping into the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's office!" She threw the powder down and green flames engulfed her, the dizziness was dreadful and she didn't know why it was affecting her so immensely. Her vision wavered and Delilah nearly blacked out as she landed in her Transfigurations Professors fireplace.

She slumped against the wall and coughed through the ash that spiraled upward. "Ah, you made it!" Dumbledore's voice met her ears and she shook her head, there was a dull ache at the base of her skull and she ignored the pain.

"Here you are, good to see you Sir." She handed him the basket and his crooked nose took a deep sniff of the wafting lemon scent. "Lovely, thank you." He set the basket down and conjured two plates, as well as butterbeer. Delilah raised a brow, but didn't question it. "Please sit, you look rather pale. Are you alright?" He asked, his bright eyes examining her carefully. As she walked, she seemed to sway slightly, and her body landed heavily in the chair. "I'm fine, just a bit dizzy." She mustered up a smile and reached for the tankard, her hand was shaking a bit and she narrowed her eyes in annoyance. Maybe it was because she hasn't eaten yet, and flooing on an empty stomach wasn't the best.

"Now, I know interrupting your holiday so soon is probably not wanted, but I stress this is important. Even if you don't see it as such." Dumbledore sat back in his chair, hands steepled beneath his chin, his gaze boring into her skull. She shifted a bit and slowly chewed on a pastry. "Okay," she said timidly.

Dread pooled in her stomach as he pulled out three vials, and one of course, was her year she was trapped in Malfoy Manor.

Her jaw clenched painfully and her eyes found his, "Sir, please, I-I can't." Dumbledore frowned at the look of pain on her face, there was a raw look in her eyes and she seemed to shrink in on herself. "I understand this must be difficult for you, but-"

"Do you?" How could Dumbledore possibly understand? He was one of the most secretive people she knew, he never let anyone know about his past, he kept it well hidden. She knew about his sister Ariana, about his troubled relationship with his brother Aberforth, and about his connection with Grindelwald. But he would never divulge that to her willingly, because it would hurt.

A shallow breath passed through his nose, and Delilah could suddenly see the weariness of age in him. He looked exhausted. Peaks of silver we're starting to invade his auburn hair, the lines under his eyes more deep, and he suddenly seemed fragile in a sense. It was off putting, his aura was still powerful, but nonetheless it made Delilah feel weary.

Dumbledore was always supposed to be strong.

"Pardon me, Professor. It's just," she paused and rubbed at her eyes, the headache was still pounding resolutely in the back of her head. "It's bad. The memory, I mean. It's dreadful to watch, and I have a hard time even thinking about it, so watching it...reliving it. I fear it'll be too much."

"I can offer you a calming draught?"

Delilah closed her eyes and attempted to steady her breathing. She knew he wouldn't budge. Yes, a calming solution would be helpful. But nonetheless, those months were worse than anything she's ever experienced. And having someone, Dumbledore, see her at her weakest and most vulnerable self set an alarm off in her head. She wanted to turn and run. But she knew she couldn't.

If he truly believed this could help her to get home, she had to try.

"Alright."

_________________________________________

Delilah threw her body back from the pensive as soon as the memory was over. Her throat felt tight, she couldn't breathe, and her body was shaking. She had to keep reminding herself that it was over. It was over. It was all over. It's in the past. Bellatrix can't hurt her anymore. But the pain in her back felt like her skin was on fire, the torment purely psychosomatic, yet real all at once.

She couldn't even attempt to look at Dumbledore. Delilah didn't think she could bare seeing his reaction. Her screams still echoed in her head, her pleas, her bouts of weakness. "Can I go, sir? Can- can we talk about it tomorrow? Please." Her vision swam as she stood, her legs struggled to hold her weight as she made her way towards the door.

Whether or not he said yes, she was leaving.

"Delilah." His tone was foreign, she couldn't place it. Whether his voice held a hint of pity, or he was disturbed, she didn't know. "I'll be in my dorm." With that she left.

Dumbledore fell limp in his chair, staring intently at the place where Delilah sat only moments before. He looked at the clock and noticed they'd been inside the memories for nearly three hours.

Three hours. For three hours he sat and watched a teenage girl get tortured. His heart felt heavy, she reminded him of Ariana in some sense. Delilah wasn't able to defend herself properly and she suffered greatly for it. But no, Delilah was different, she was still alive and still fighting. He recognized Malfoy Manor almost as soon as they entered the memories. Solely because of the many portraits hanging in a room Delilah was repeatedly dragged through.

"Poor dear." He took off his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the flashes of red out of his mind. How could anyone do that to a person? Let alone a child?

Instead of heading to the Slytherin common room, Delilah found herself in front of the Ravenclaw entryway. She needed some sense of familiarity with her life, her actual life. Not this screwed up show she was currently performing in. She stared up at the large wooden door with a bronze knocker that was enchanted to spew riddles any time someone wanted in.

She raised an arm that felt too heavy and knocked once.

"It brings back the lost as though never gone, shines laughter and tears with light long since shone; a moment to make, a lifetime to shed; valued then but lost when your dead. What Is It?"

She felt like shooting a reducto at the bloody door.

"A memory." She bit and yanked on the knocker as soon as the door unlocked.

As soon as she stepped inside, the remaining Ravenclaws stared at her wide eyed. Delilah froze for only a moment, thinking she was intruding. But no. This was her home. Ravenclaw was where she truly belonged. She had every right to be there. Finally, a girl in her fifth year stood up and made a face. "Oi, what do you think-"

"Oh fuck off, are there any seventh years still here?" The students stared blankly at her until a boy with curly red hair cleared his throat, he looked maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. It was that boy she saw in Honeydukes the first time she went down to Hogsmeade. "There's about six female seventh years still here, but the boys' dormitory is empty." He had a heavy Birmingham accent, something not common, and his cheeks were scattered with freckles. "I'm Septimus."

"I don't care." With that she started off up the stairs, but stopped three steps up. Turning slowly, her eyes were wide as she looked Septimus over head to toe. "What's your last name?" He fidgeted under her heavy gaze and eyed his friends for help, but they ignored him. Delilah quickly realized she probably wasn't the most popular person in the school, or easily approachable. She was a seventh year Slytherin that hung out with a handful of the most pompous, wealthy, pureblood students. Not to mention Tom, whom everyone either admired, envied, or feared.

"Weasley, why?" Septimus mumbled and pulled at the collar of his jumper. A whimper involuntarily left her lips as Delilah fell forward and crushed the redhead into a bone crushing hug. He froze for a second before awkwardly patting her back. "You alright, love?"

"Yeah." She gasped, she couldn't breath. "I'm alright." This was Ron's grandfather. And seeing him, a boy who looked so much like her friend, it was overwhelming. The emotional whiplash of this, plus revisiting her memories. It was too much. "I realize this is probably very weird for you and makes no sense whatsoever, but I really need this hug." She mumbled into his shirt, the wool itching her cheeks.

"Okay then." Septimus said slowly. He firmly wrapped his arms around her to give her a proper hug, and he looked at his friends with a puzzled expression. "What do I do?" He mouthed, only to get unhelpful shrugs as a response. He smoothed down her wild hair and cleared his throat yet again, "why don't we get you up to a bed and rest, that sound alright?"

Not trusting her voice, Delilah settled for a nod and let him lead her up to the empty seventh years dormitories. "You can take any bed, shout if you need anything. And if you're not down before dinner I'll come and get you." The smile he gave her shot a pain in her sides, physically he reminded her of Ron, but how he acted reminded her so much of Molly. "Thank you." His blue eyes were warm and he nodded before departing.

She sank into the blue sheets, running nimble fingers over the soft fabric. And for this first time in what felt like years, Delilah felt like she actually fit in with her surroundings. Like she was meant to be there. The wind rattled the windows slightly, they were fogged over with ice and snow and Christmas decorations lined the edge.

She'd nearly forgotten Christmas was in a little over a week. The last time she had a proper Christmas with her family was nearly four years ago. Delilah had finally gotten a record player, something she'd been begging for incessantly. The joy she felt opening that present seemed so childish now. How ignorant her past self was to the dangerous and horrors that lied ahead.

Her head sunk into the pillow, and within moments, she was out.

___________________________________

 

"I don't see why you won't let me go." She prodded at a mysterious lump in her soup with a spoon, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "I feel like it's obvious." Luna slapped her hand lightly and made a pointed gesture at Kreacher, who was glowering at her. "What's more confusing, is why you won't let me go." Harry said and was met with a multitude of scoffs.

"Harry, do you not realize how idiotic it would be sending you into the Ministry? You're an Undesirable, the most wanted. It'd be suicide." Hermione tried to push her point across even further with a rather dramatic bite of an apple.

"But I could use Polyjuice potion, do we have any left?" He tried to reach for Hermione's bag, but she yanked it away from his reach. "They'd know it was you in a heartbeat."

"She's right." Ron said through a mouthful of bread. They hadn't eaten a proper meal in nearly a month, so Hermione didn't bother to scold him. "That's why it'd be the smartest choice to send me, for one the Ministry nor the Death Eaters know I'm a part of the Order, and they aren't even aware I know Harry." Everything she was saying made sense, but the group still refused to permit it.

"We can't send a child into a mission like this, not with such high risks." Kingsley's baritone rung throughout the small room. "But it would be an even greater risk to send anyone else!" The plea in her voice was barely hidden. "Not only would I be the safest bet, but I'd probably have the highest rate of success-"

"I know you want revenge for what Bellatrix did to you, but Delilah-" Molly began, only to be cut off by the girl throwing her spoon down loudly on the table. "That is not what this is about. My judgement of my own personal safety is not clouded, I assure you. Give me one logical reason I wouldn't be the best choice of person for this job? And you cannot say my age, and I swear to Merlin if you bring up my past. We all want revenge on someone, one way or the other. All of us. Neville, Ginny, Luna, Hermione, George, Harry... all of us have had something taken. So do not try to use that against me as a reason to keep me sitting here on my ass and do nothing."

All the adults stared at one another, Kingsley however kept a steady gaze with Delilah. "If we allow you to do this," he began slowly and clearly, drawing everyone's attention. "There is a high probability of death." She didn't allow herself to blink and she forced her breathing to calm, her heart pulsed slowly, the noise thudding softly in her ears.

"I will not fail you, I owe you all that. But if I do end up dying," Delilah rubbed at her eyes and caught sight of Hermione, her heart stirring a little at the sight of her friends tears. "Spare me a thought now and then." Her blue eyes caught the green of Harry's. His jaw was stiff and he looked angry, but not at her. No, it was something else. There was also a stroke of sadness in his gaze that she couldn't place.

Once dinner was over, she barely walked out of the kitchen when someone was pulling on her sleeve. She was tugged into a small offside closet and the light was so dim she could barely see. "Harry what-"

His hug knocked the wind out of her, his wild black hair tickling her cheek.

"Thank you." He said. But there was something wrong with his voice. There was an underlying error, a higher pitch almost. Something didn't fit. There was a hint of coldness. "Harry? You okay?" She pulled her head back to look him in the eye and a scream ripped through her lungs.

Red had replaced the beautiful green of Harry's eyes, his skin was growing more sickly and pale. "I said thank you, my dear." That voice. It wasn't his, the warmness and comfort of it was gone.

That voice could only belong to one person.

She blinked rapidly and rubbed at her eyes, the vision of Harry was growing blurry. Delilah blacked out for only a moment before her surroundings completely changed.

Her body lay limp on cold marble tile, though something warm was coating her body. It was her blood, she soon realized. And the person in front of her was not Harry, no not at all.

The person looming over her was Lord Voldemort.

"Well isn't that just tragic?" He hissed softly, twisting his wand slightly to the left and Delilah's back gave a painful arch, there was a sickening crack and she screamed. Her nerves felt like they were on fire. "One would think if the Order thought retrieving this was so important, they wouldn't have sent such an incompetent, pathetic child to fetch it." He twisted his wand again, and her body threw itself in the opposite direction, her head slamming into the floor. Another painful scream tore its way from her throat and she could taste blood.

"Oh, my sincere apologies. You loathe being considered pathetic, Miss Meddows. Don't you?" There was an odd glint in his red eyes, almost like he knew her. Despite all the pain running through her body, Delilah furrowed her brows. She's never met Voldemort in person, barely anyone has. "How do you-"

But he flicked his wand, this time with more vigor and there was a snarl on his pale lips as a single word rolled off his tongue.

"Crucio!"

________________________________________

 

Screaming was the only sound she could register as two hands shook her violently. Her throat felt raw and her lungs were being pushed to their limit, constricting tightly in her chest.

"Delilah!" Someone yelled. She didn't know the voice. Were they going to hurt her? The hands touching her, would they harm her? Without a second missed, she curled in on herself, murmuring a runic spell in quick recession, "hanc corporis defendere et tueri oportet quod." Her arms then pushed forward, her palms splayed and a burst of red exploded from her hands. There was a yell and someone was thrown across the room.

Her eyes widened as soon as she realized who she just set on fire. "Oh my god!" She flicked her wand and quickly put out the fire engulfing Septimus' clothing. She fumbled out of the bed, only to end up falling on the floor due to the sheets being tangled in her legs. She stumbled forward in a crawl as she made her way over to his panting form. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She winced at the third degree burns on his arm and upper thighs. "Ron I'm so sorry."

"Who?" He bit through clenched teeth. Delilah ignored her mistake and told him to stay still as she quickly healed the burns. "I'm really sorry, I-my mind wasn't in the right state I thought you were someone else."

"Clearly." He sighed and frowned at the state of the burnt wool of his jumper. "My mum gave me this."

Delilah smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck. "Did you mean to fetch me for dinner?" She asked timidly. It was a bit strange being so civil after thinking she was about to be murdered. And she did just set a poor boy on fire. Ron's grandfather no less.

"Well, yes and no. You were screaming your bloody heart out. Thought you were being murdered or something." He chuckled. Delilah felt herself go pale but forced a laugh. "Sorry, I had a nightmare."

"Want to talk about it?" He offered and Delilah gave him a small smile. "Not really, but thank you." She stood up and offered him a hand, the lanky boy was much heavier than he appeared. "The meals over break are ten times better than usual, have you seen the decorations in the Great Hall yet?" Septimus steered her away from the wandering eyes of other Ravenclaws once they reached the common room, they were shooting her questioning glances and suspicious glares.

"Ignore them." He gave her a smile and led the way out of the room, already starting down the spiral staircase of the tower. "Why exactly did you come to Ravenclaw? Slytherin too crowded? They usually don't stay over holidays."

Her senses were askew and her foot slipped on one of the steps, her heart gave a lurch and her hand gripped the banister. Septimus raised a brow but could clearly see she was in a bit of a state, so he didn't question her further.

The Great Hall partially resembled something of a winter wonderland, the ceiling had been enchanted to let light snowfall trickle down on the tables below. Christmas trees stood tall in each corner, decked with beautiful wreaths and candles, and some ornaments students took the liberty of adding hung from the branches. The fireplaces burned brightly, the cracks of logs barely audible over the light conversation. Septimus led her to the Ravenclaw table and Delilah tried to ignore the wariness she felt. They were all staring at her as if she had two heads.

Septimus fell into a heated argument about Quidditch, leaving Delilah to prod at her food and fall victim to her thoughts. She needed a distraction. Looking around, nearly everyone around her was avoiding eye contact. "Um...how was everyone's day?" A brunette girl raised a brow at her and looked at her friends, a dry laugh left her lips. Delilah racked her brains and tried to remember the girls name, she was a sixth year... "Amelia, right?" She asked and the girl nodded after a moment.

"What do you want?" Her tone held a sense of distrust, which did nothing but annoy Delilah. "What? I don't want anything I was just-"

"Listen, whatever game you're trying to play, we won't fall for it. No matter what nice facade you put on, not after what your friends did." She spat, a look of pure loathing on her pretty features. Delilah furrowed her brows, pointedly resting her hands on the table to show she meant no harm. "What do you mean?" With the looks they were giving her, Delilah felt stupid, like she should know exactly what they meant.

"Oh please," this time a boy with straight black hair leaned over, his eyes narrowed. "Like your little boyfriend didn't tell you. Or perhaps he wouldn't, seeing as you've been whoring around with Riddle." Delilah felt her jaw go slack as she stared at them with a mix of shock and disgust. Her? Whore around with Tom?

"Excuse me?-" before she said something she'd surely regret, Delilah felt herself being tugged upwards by Septimus. "C'mon, we can get something from the kitchens." He began to drag her away but she yanked her arm from his grasp and turned her heated gaze on the table of Ravenclaws. Despite her better judgment, the sight of them shrinking away from her gave her a sense of satisfaction and pride.

 _Damn right_ , she thought. "What the hell are you talking about?" She bit, resisting a smirk as Amelia flinched. Delilah mentally cursed at herself, this is exactly what she didn't want to be. This is who people saw Slytherins as. People who enjoy other people's suffering and fear. She should feel disgusted.

The boy with black hair, his name might've been Oliver, she wasn't sure. He sighed, his jaw set firmly and determination was rooted in his gaze. He turned towards two of his friends in his right. One girl, Katerina. And a boy, Xan. "Can you show her?" Oliver asked, an almost plea in his eyes, like he was trying to make a point.

In her curiosity, she stepped towards them both and they flinched, this time however Delilah found no enjoyment in the notion. Instead a frown tugged at her lips. Why would they be afraid of her?

Katerina sighed and spared a long glance with Xan before he nodded. "Come with us." He stood up, grasping Katerina's hand and they made their way out of the Great Hall. Delilah shot a look at Septimus and he too nodded, offering to come with her. "What are they talking about? What happened?" She asked him in a whisper. Septimus let out a slow breath and appeared to be making an effort not to look at Delilah. "It's bad."

Xan and Katerina stopped at an empty classroom and ushered them inside. They locked the door and turned to look at Delilah. An involuntary shiver ran itself up her spine, her mind reeling with what could've happened. And Elio apparently had something to do with it? She couldn't fathom him even hurting a fly. Though he'd probably strangle Tom the second an opportunity presented itself.

Her focus snapped back into place once she noticed Xan started to unbutton his shirt. She shot a look at Septimus and found that he was biting on his knuckles and his foot was tapping, a sign of anxiousness. "What are you-" her breath caught in her throat as soon as Xan turned around.

There were blisters and other scars littering his back. But right down his spine were deep gashes that made out a foul word. Each letter carved into the center of his back, stacked on top of one another in crude fashion.

M

U

D

B

L

O

D

 

The letters were jagged, clearly done with some sort of knife, not a wand. Delilah felt her balance give way and she slumped against a desk behind her. Her eyes shot towards Katerina, did someone really do that to her as well? The girl looked like she was on the verge of tears as her hands shook to remove her own blouse. Xan took her hands in his, pulling her into a hug. "Love, you don't have to." He whispered into her hair, but Katerina shook her head. "No, I- she needs to see."

With a deep breath, she unbuttoned her shirt and out of the corner of Delilah's eye, she saw Septimus turn around. This was for Delilah to see, not him.

Immediately Delilah caught sight of deep purple and yellow bruises marking her ribs and her stomach gave a lurch at the markings of hand prints. Katerina closed her eyes and slowly turned before undoing the clasp of her bra.

"Oh my god." She stepped forward but didn't risk touching Katerina, not wanting to scare the girl. Her throat felt tight as her eyes took in the damage of the girls pale and mared skin, skin that was once smooth and flawless.

_Property of the Knights of Walpurgis_

The label was cut in elegant scrawl, a sign a wand was involved due to the neatness. Other bruises and cuts littered her back and Delilah felt her heart stop as Katerina began to lift her skirt. "They didn't," she trailed and Katerina shook her head. "No, they didn't get that far. But he made sure that I knew they were capable." Delilah's brows furrowed. 'He' and 'they'? Was someone leading this whole assault?

Katerina lifted her skirt to show her right hip bone, the skin was irritated and this time the writing was more similar to the jaggedness if Xan's. 'Blood Traitor' was scrawled in a crooked fashion. Delilah gulped as she observed Katerina's back again and then everything just became blurry. The room seemed to spin and she stumbled backwards, as if in means to get as far away from the words written on her back as possible.

Not it couldn't- he couldn't have. Surely he wouldn't be that cruel?

Septimus caught Delilah before she could fall over and sat her down. He was saying something but Delilah couldn't hear him, it sounded as if she was underwater. She couldn't see anything either, she'd gained tunnel vision and the words written on Katerina's back was the only thing in focus.

She recognized that hand writing. And it could only belong to one person.

"Who did this to you?" Her voice was a croak that echoed around the room. Xan and Katerina looked at each other for a moment before Xan cleared his throat. "Malfoy did this to me, we think Lestrange marked Kat's hip, and then her back had to be Riddle. We didn't exactly see them, but we could hear their voices clear as day."

Her mind reeled and she quickly shook her head. "Wait a minute, you think? That's quite a large accusation. Did they or did they not do this to you?" Delilah's breathing has grown rather rapid. Maybe, just maybe those she considered her friends didn't do this. They couldn't have done this. They were some of the most kind people she knew. Elio surely took no part in this, he wasn't blood prejudiced.

And Pyrrhus, he took her dress shopping for fucks sake, how could he carve into a girls skin?

But Abraxas...he was so kind. And the way he poured his heart out to her, he was a hopeless romantic. But Delilah had to remind herself, she felt like an idiot for forgetting. Abraxas was the man to raise Lucius Malfoy after all. She nearly blacked out. How could she have forgotten!

Abraxas would grow up to be one of the first Death Eaters, followed by his son. She couldn't fathom it and Delilah didn't even realize she was hyperventilating.

Of course Abraxas would be capable of doing something like this. Not just anyone could join Voldemort's ranks, and even worse, be in his inner circle. But maybe, just maybe, he hadn't reached that level of inhumanity yet. She had to hope. Maybe she could stop him-

No. She promised Dumbledore she wouldn't do anything to change the past. No matter what. Before she could even think further, Delilah fainted.

________________________________________

 

"She's going to be alright, sir?" Septimus' voice swam in her foggy brain. Where was she? It felt like she was on a bed. Her eyes blinked open and as soon as full consciousness took hold of her, pain shot through her spine, scattering across the rest of her nerves and Delilah winced. "Oh look, she's awake."

Dumbledore.

"Sir? Where-" She began and something cool was laid across her forehead. "You're in the infirmary Miss Pontmercy, had a bit of a fainting spell. Mr Weasley here, brought you up." Delilah could barely manage to turn her head so Septimus leaned over to be in her line of sight. "Thank you." Her voice was barely a whisper and her throat burned. He smiled at her, his hair seemed on fire in the candle light. "You look peaky." He mused and Delilah managed a dry laugh. "Shove off."

"If you could give us a moment, Septimus?" The boy turned red as Dumbledore's twinkling eyes bore into his. It was intimidating when the mans attention was solely on you for the first time. As soon as the doors shut, Dumbledore let out an uncharacteristic sigh and sat down next to Delilah's bed.

"What happened?" It was a rather blunt question and Delilah blinked. She couldn't tell him, she should, but she couldn't. Besides, telling Dumbledore would technically be divulging some information about the future. At least that's how Delilah tried to justify it.

She closed her eyes and let her head sink into the pillow. Maybe, hopefully, Xan was wrong about who did that to them. Delilah mentally begged whatever deity that was out there, potentially fucking up her life, that it wasn't true. It wasn't the friends she held so dear. But there was a small voice in the back of her head telling her she knew better.

"I can't tell you, sir." Then again, Xan, Katerina, Septimus, and the rest of the Ravenclaws who knew didn't tell anyone. But why? As a form of protection? Fear? Dumbledore nodded and sat back in the old wooden chair, the legs creaking loudly in the silent room. "I've stumbled upon a possible answer, though I don't have enough evidence to back such a claim."

Delilah bolted up right before he even finished the sentence. "Yes? What is it?" The eagerness was not only evident in her voice, but in her features. The dizziness that threatened to cloak her mind was pushed away, she needed to hear this.

"It has come to my attention that you were most likely not sent here on accident." He said slowly, watching her face closely. Delilah gulped and took a deep breath, only to result in her coughing. She tried to stop, but her chest kept convulsing. "Miss Meddows-"

"I'm fine." She pulled her sleeve away and saw specks of blood. She didn't allow herself to react. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs in order to conceal the crimson flecks. "What do you mean not on accident? This was on purpose? Someone sent me here?" Her mind was moving a mile a minute yet it also felt like it was frozen. How could it have not been an accident? "I believe so, yes."

"But why?" Dumbledore pressed his lips together and his eyes appeared far older than the rest of him. "That, I'm afraid I do not know. Nor am I sure who sent you here, I'm still reviewing the night you snuck into the Ministry. The Atrium was rather dimly lit. Do you remember anyone else who would have possibly been there? Besides you and the man."

Delilah's brows furrowed before she realized Dumbledore still didn't know who Voldemort was. And he couldn't know. So what did he see when he looked at that memory? An insane man? A monster? How did he interpret her torturer? "Ah, you're probably wondering what I think about it so far." He chimed with that knowing smile of his. Delilah felt her lips twitch upward at the sides and nodded.

Dumbledore's eyes still twinkled, but they looked sad. "It's strange, that man. Or what I'm assuming is left of a man. He's the most broken thing I've ever seen, and his eyes, they're almost familiar..." his eyes zoned out as he looked at a random spot on the wall.

After a beat of silence, Delilah cleared her throat. "Sir?" Dumbledore flinched and she frowned. That was highly unlike him. "It's hard to recall exactly, a lot of people were chasing me. But in the Atrium I think it was one woman... Bellatrix." Saying her name aloud required much more effort than she expected. "Two other men, though I'm not sure who they were, and the man, the pale man."

"And who is this pale man?" He peered at her over his spectacles and her heart ached, flashes of Dumbledores limp body laying lifeless on the ground flashed in her mind. "I can't tell you that, sir."

"Right well," he stood up and patted her knee. "I'll send you an owl once I piece together another part of the puzzle." With that he left out the door leaving a very confused seventeen year old girl.

Before she could stop herself, her body racked with coughs again. An almost animalistic hacking noise was coming from her throat and she clawed at her neck. She couldn't breathe. Leaning over the side of her bed, she conjured a bucket and spit out the warm liquid pooling in her mouth.

It was more blood.

________________________________________

 

Later that night, well around two in the morning, Delilah quietly made her way to Dumbledore's office to use the fireplace to floo back to Avery Manor. Dumbledore said he'd give her a few days to get her shit together. Well, not those words exactly, but Delilah got the point.

She stumbled out of a fireplace that unfortunately wasn't the one in her room. Thankfully however, she knew where she was. It was a sitting room that was two floors below the one where her bedroom was.

Despite the fact there technically wasn't a rule about her being out this late, she still felt uneasy just roaming about the manor at this hour. After casting a disillusionment charm on herself, she quietly crept out of the room.

The place seemed more haunting at night. Although it was typical for paintings to move in the wizarding world, it still gave Delilah a chill each time one stirred. Her footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet, but nonetheless the sound felt too loud. Her eyes were trained directly in front of her, she failed to notice a figure emerge from a connecting hallway.

She nearly screamed as someone bumped into her, a small yelp coming from the opposing person. "Ow."

Said a small voice. Delilah flicked her wand, fearing the worst, but sighed as she looked down at a child and lifted the charm off herself. "I'm sorry." She whispered, not being able to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

"Who are you?" The little girl asked, still rubbing at her forehead.

"I feel like I should be asking you that. I didn't see you at dinner the other night." Delilah thought she looked familiar. Her skin was tanned and her eyes were slightly feline, but more soft. "Are you seriously arguing with an eight year old?" The girl inquired with her arms crossed.

Delilah raised a brow at the girls tone. "It's a fair question." The girl rolled her eyes and sighed rather dramatically. "I'm Rosie, Cain's sister. I'm his favorite person in the world." She smiled brightly to reveal adorably crooked teeth, one bottom tooth was currently in the works of growing in. Delilah felt a grin tugging at her lips. She wasn't too fond of children but Rosie seemed insufferable enough. "Well, Rosie. I'm Delilah. It's lovely to meet you, but don't you think you should be in bed?" She leaned down to be at the girls height, giving her shoulder a playful nudge.

"Shouldn't you be in bed as well? Why are you wandering around my house at two in the morning? And why were you under a disillusionment charm?" She asked, the questions rolling off her tongue. Delilah huffed and stood up straight. Rosie didn't let anything slide apparently. "I had to use the bathroom."

"You weren't at dinner tonig-oh! You're Elio's girlfriend aren't you?" A cheeky smile made its way onto her lips and she even giggled. Delilah wanted to tell her to stop, but telling an eight year old to quit giggling seemed pointless. "Yes, I am...that. Now, off you pop. Back to bed." She waved her hand back in the direction Rosie came from but the girl shook her head. "I'm not tired."

"Well that's not really my problem, is it?" Delilah inwardly cringed. She was awful with kids. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she looked at Rosie who instead of seeming offended, just looked bored. "How about I read to you, hm?" Rosie seemed to mull it over before nodding. She smiled widely as she took Delilah's hand and led her down an assortment of hallways. Thankfully Rosie's room appeared only to be a few halls down from her own.

She opened a white door and her room was huge, much bigger than Delilah's. Everything was a shade of lavender and it gave an airy feeling to the room. To her surprise, and delight, Rosie had a large floor to ceiling bookcase. The girl threw herself onto her bed and looked at Delilah expectantly. "Oh shall I pick then?" She said sarcastically and made her way over to the novels. Skimming a few titles, she decided to go for a classic and pulled the book from the shelf.

"Here we are, The Tales of Beedle the Bard. This okay?" Rosie nodded and propped herself up against the headboard. Delilah looked around the room and was about to sit at a desk chair, but Rosie insisted she sit on the bed. "It's more comfortable." Delilah only resisted at first in fear she'd fall asleep as soon as she landed on the silken sheets. But Rosie persisted and after a minute, Delilah found herself huddled in a heap of pillows with the book propped open. "Any story in particular?" She asked and Rosie pointed at the tale of the Three Brothers. "I've never been able to understand that one."

Delilah hummed as she flicked to the right page, she didn't know much about it either. Hermione has ranted about it a few times, all in hushed whispers with Harry and Ron. She mostly only knew of it to the extent of a fairytale. It was a bit dark to be considered a children's story, but she supposed it had a good lesson to ponder over.

"Three brothers, travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceed to cross." Delilah yawned as she read, ignoring the laughing from Rosie.

"Halfway across the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing." Both girls were too focused on the story, they failed to take note of a third presence lingering in the doorway.

"The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river. The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank. The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Invisibility cloak."

Her mind jumped to Harry's invisibility cloak, and how unique it was. But shook her head. This was a fairytale. The stuff of legend.

"The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways.The eldest brother travelled to a village where a wizard whom he had quarrelled lived. He sought out a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the duelling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility."

Delilah couldn't help but give a dry laugh at that. Arrogant people never learn.

"That very night, Death transfigured to a murderous wizard. The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother's throat for good measure and stole the wand. That was when Death took the first brother." She eyed Rosie, and to her surprise, the girls eyes were falling heavy. Who knew a murderous tale could be a way to send a child to sleep?

"The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him, much to his delight. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally, the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging from his house' balcony so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own."

She wondered what she would do if she had the opportunity to bring someone back from the dead. It was awfully tempting. But meddling with the laws of nature were dangerous and always came with consequences. The dead shall remain dead, no matter the amount of pain suffered by the mourners.

"Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals." She closed the book and Rosie's tired eyes narrowed. "Over already? What was the point of that? They all died." Delilah rolled her own eyes, another yawn slipping past her lips.

"That's the point." She ruffled the girls hair and Rosie pushed her hand away. "What do you mean?"

Delilah sighed and placed the book on the nightstand before turning to look back at Rosie. She was on the verge of passing out. "Are you familiar with the works of G.K. Chesterton?" It was a ridiculous question. Of course she wouldn't be. One, she was an eight year old. Two, she's an eight year old in a pure blood family who shuns anything remotely muggle related. And not to her surprise, Rosie shook her head.

"Well, he once wrote, 'fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy Tales tell children that dragons can be killed.' Meaning, no matter what life gives you, however unbelievable, no matter what save faces are presented, there is only one guarantee in life."

"And what's that?" The candle light shone in Rosie's eyes, a look of pure innocence on her face as she yawned and buried herself deeper in her sheets.

The answer, of course, was death.

But that was a topic a bit too dark for the time being. "Go to bed, little one. We can talk about it more tomorrow if you like?" Rosie nodded and smiled at Delilah. "Thank you."

"For what?" Delilah got off the bed and properly tucked her in. "For being nice, my mum hasn't read to me in ages. Daddy's never home, and Cain is off at school." Rosie fell asleep before she could see the frown pulling on Delilah's lips. "Night, love." She pressed a light kiss to Rosie's forehead and waved her hand, blowing out the candles.

She sighed before turning on her heel, her door was in her sights, but just before she could reach out for the door knob, a hand covered her mouth and yanked her back. Her scream was muffled as the door quickly shut and her kidnapper let go of her. Before she could scream again, the room became alight with candles and she was met with Tom grimacing as he wiped his hand off on a handkerchief.

"You licked my hand." His lip was pulled back in disgust, completely ignorant to Delilah's glare. "You pulled me into a room against my will! I thought someone was about to kill me!"

He blinked at her and then looked at his hand again, not bothering to hide is detestment. "You licked my hand."

Delilah threw her head back and let out an exasperated groan. "You're unbelievable." She turned to walk out the door, but as she pulled on the handle, it wouldn't budge. "Alohomora." She muttered, but again, it didn't budge.

"I wouldn't bother." The muse of his voice made her skin crawl. Flashes of Katerina's back assaulted her mind and before she could do anything to stop herself, Delilah threw a hex at him that would essentially pluck out his eyes.

Much to her annoyance, he easily deflected the spell. His wand wasn't even drawn. "Someone's in a temperament." He tsk-d, leaning against his desk casually, allowing her to see he didn't take her as a threat. Even though she's proved she could kill him. Not anymore however, he'd taken the liberty of learning a defense spell against that dark curse she used in Defense Against the Dark Arts all those months ago.

"You are one of the most vile people I've ever laid eyes on." She spat and wanted to actually disintegrate him as he tilted his head to the side, not at all affected by her words. "You disgust me."

"And this is new information to me, how? Do enlighten me, what encouraged this sudden bout of resentment?" She watched as he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, giving only a peak of his clavicles, prominent against pale skin. He was giving the impression he had his guard down, to test her if she'd try anything. But Delilah knew better.

"How could you do that to Katerina?" Her voice was quiet, and as Tom looked at her, he couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek at his sudden revelation.

Delilah Pontmercy was afraid.

"Whatever do you mean?" The look of feigned ignorance on his face was almost too much for her, it was so convincing, but she knew it wasn't real. Nothing he did was real. "At dinner the other night, when you said all those awful things. How do you justify such a belief?"

Tom looked at her for a long moment. His wand was in his pocket, he could simply pull it out and obliviate her. Hurt her, even. If he wanted to. Instead he just analyzed her, watched every twitch in her body as she felt his heavy gaze. He wanted to touch her again. When he'd pulled her into his room, her skin was ice cold. The memory of her falling limp in that hallway rang fresh in his mind. Was she growing ill again? "What was that story you were telling Rosie?"

Was he joking? She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what game he was possibly playing at. "Why?" He shrugged, it was uncharacteristic of him. It was too casual. "Certain aspects of it intrigued me."

"It's a popular tale parents usually read to their children, though it's a bit on the dark side. Whoever came up with it must've had a different means of sending their kids off to bed."

"Came up with? So you believe it to be made up?" Delilah took notice of how his hair was a tad messier than usual, indicating he must've been running his fingers through it. The image was alluring but she shoved it away. His pale skin was also soaking in the candle light, making him almost glow. And his cheeks were slightly tinged, a sight too wholesome for a man like him.

"Of course it is, it's a fairytale." She said. He shrugged again and Delilah felt the childish need to tell him to stop.

"All folklore has a basis of truth." He then undid his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Her eyes lingered a bit too long on his forearms. A notion he didn't fail to miss, but he didn't comment on it either. "Tell me about it."

"Why?"

"I told you, I'm intrigued." Of course he wouldn't tell her the whole truth. He was making his way back down from the top floor, passing by Rosie's room when he heard Delilah's voice. He stepped forward to inquire what she was doing, but then he heard her say two words. Just two.

Elder Wand.

Now why would a children's story mention such a weapon? Least of all, share it's origin? He's tried to do extensive research on the wand, but all of it came up fruitless. The tale of the Three Brothers popped up multiple times, but he dismissed it purely on the basis that it was defined as a children's story.

And how idiotic he was.

Delilah retold him the story and watched as he bit the inside of his cheek again. Had he always done that? It seemed to be a tick of his, a sign showing he was thinking.

After a long moment, his eyes shot up to hers again and she flinched. "What did you say they were referred as?" She swallowed, not entirely liking the look in his eye. There was a look of want. It was burning and she didn't know if it could be put out.

"The Deathly Hallows."

Tom filed the word away for later, he'd have much research to do. He felt a smile pull at his lips. Delilah was oh so useful when she allowed herself to be.

"Are you a half-blood, Miss Pontmercy?" His tone was casual, as if he was talking about how it might rain tomorrow.

"Excuse me?" The question was sudden. Taking her off guard. She needed to sit down, but the only available places were the bed and the chair at the desk he was currently leaning against. She'd rather take her chances standing until she fainted again.

"It's a simple question, are you a half-blood?" He crossed his arms, he was leaned back with one foot crossed over the other. He looked like a businessman and it didn't help set her nerves at ease. "I don't see why that matters."

He sighed softly through his nose, his dark eyes boring into hers. Delilah felt a chill as his aura pressed down on her from all sides. She felt like he could see right through her.

"You're not a muggle born, or else the other night you would've been by far less composed. And being in Slytherin would've been much more of a hell." He tilted his head to the side and stood up, he didn't even smile as he watched Delilah shrink back. "No, you're a half-blood. Well versed in the world of magic, though how I know you share muggle blood is because of your characteristics. You use certain terms only muggles use, such as 'oh my god', and others of the like. You hold yourself different than any other witch I've seen. You hold a pride. Yet it's different from that of an aristocrat." As he spoke, he walked forward slowly. The sight of his tall form approaching made Delilah feel like she was the prey about to get lunged on.

"Despite your performance the other night, you lack the etiquette of a pureblood. Though I do congratulate you on how convincing it was." Delilah gasped as her back hit the wall. Yet again, she was trapped between Tom and some other surface. His hands pressed against the fine wallpaper on each side of her head, providing no escape. He dipped his head down to meet hers, their breaths swirling with each other, invisible.

Burnt wood, parchment, cigarettes. It made her feel intoxicated.

And for him, he was feeling a pang of dizziness from the peppermint.

"Don't you think it's a bit unfair you know so much about me, yet I so little about you?" She pulled as much strength as possible into her voice, trying to hide the quiver. But this was Tom Riddle. He'd notice. "It's quite an unfair bargain."

He raised a brow at her, his eyes skimming over her face. She looked exhausted and a tad pale, though it was hard to tell due to the orange glow of the room. "Bargain?" He asked, and her only answer was a firm nod.

"I'm a half-blood, does that satisfy you?" His eyes were trained on her features, trying to detect any sense of judgment. Judgement for his blood, judgement he was always expecting. But he was met with slight surprise, and was that relief?

She furrowed her brows, recalling all the cruel names he's called people based off their own blood. Even calling half-bloods derogatory names. "Then why would you-"

"For appearances, of course. Do you really think I'd be where I am today if I divulge my heritage? Do you know how many opportunities would be taken away? The Avery's wouldn't have even let me through their front door despite how much they claim to love me. I wouldn't even be able to walk the halls of Hogwarts without being spat on. Or sleep comfortably in the Slytherin dormitory. I wouldn't have been prefect, nor Head Boy. I have to present myself to a certain prestige, act as they do, make them believe I'm like them. Or else they'd only stare down their noses in disgust and act as if they're better. I wouldn't be taken seriously, my intellect would be questioned, I'd be robbed of a successful life."

Delilah's royal blue eyes didn't waver from his. People were rarely able to hold eye contact with him and he found it fascinating to actually get a close up of her eyes. The detail in them was something akin to art, if he were to be so gracious. Up close, he came to realize her eyes were lighter than he realized, and only the rim of her iris was that deep royal blue. Perhaps he always thought they were such a color because her pupils usually tended to be dilated.

A sudden resilience took over her features, he watched as her jaw set, her chin lifted. Neither of them were aware the action caused the distance between them to grow smaller. Their noses were no further than three inches apart.

"I don't give a damn if it means you can't get the job you want. Or the life you want. You don't do that to a person. A person! Marking them like property, how do you- I don't understand. And I don't want to." She shook her head and her curls brushed against his hands, it tingled, but he ignored it.

"Are you sure?" His deep baritone seemed to vibrate her body due to their proximity.

"What do you mean, 'am I sure'? Of course I'm sure" Delilah tried to straighten her back, to try to distance herself, but he only seemed to grow nearer. Or was that just her overactive imagination fucking with her?

She froze as he leaned in.

What the fuck was he doing?

Milliseconds before what she was expecting to happen occurred, he turned his face and his cheek brushed against hers. His breath tickled her ear and she felt her legs go weak. Suddenly thankful she was pressed against a wall, because if not she would've crumbled to the floor.

"Then why are you still here?"

Her eyes closed tightly as he pulled his face back. Tom watched her lashes and how they were a resting fan over her freckled cheeks. He was right, her skin was cold as ice.

"I really do hate you." she muttered, her breath smelt like lemon and something more coppery. But before he could place it, he forced himself to back away.

"I know." He then walked over to the door and opened it, gesturing for her to leave.

"Goodnight." He watched as she slowly started to walk, her legs shaking with each step. He could easily see her chest rise and fall as she tried to slow her breathing. It was such fun to turn her into a puddle of nerves. Delilah was always so put together, it was a sight to see her unravel. Especially if he was the one to undo her.

Tom observed her as she slowly opened her door, she turned to look at him for a moment longer. Her lips parted to say something, but she started to cough and quickly shut the door.

He raised a brow but shut his own door. He could look into her health later, he had new, more pressing matters. He had research to attend to, Delilah had provided a break in what seemed to be an unsolvable case.

And that break of course, was the Deathly Hallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATES will be slightly postponed!! I was hoping to update this past weekend but I took my SAT on Saturday and was tired as hell. I have state testing today, but the rest of the week is free, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to publish. HOWEVER I have AP testing next week that I need to study for, after that it’s summer!! And I’ll be able to update much more frequently! So sorry for the lack these past few days!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys I’m not dead!!! Finally an update, I know! Don’t kill me please. But school is finally done for and summer is here, so I have so much more time to work on this! Plus I have another story in the works that is a modern Tom Riddle au, that’s non-magic. And I really like how that one is going so far. Stay tuned!

Delilah felt dazed as she made her way down to breakfast, her throat raw and chest sore. She spent the entire night coughing up blood and her body had been covered in a thin layer of sweat. Plus her nerves were in a jumble after the little stunt Tom pulled. She realized he technically didn't do anything, but the slightest brush of his cheek to hers was enough to send her mind into a frenzy. 

Damn him. 

As she sat down at the table, Delilah noticed the girls were looking rather giddy at such an early hour. While the boys, save for Pyrrhus, looked miserable. "Why're you in such a good mood?" She asked Lolita, prodding at her food. She still had no appetite, she hadn't eaten a proper meal in nearly three days. 

"We start dancing lessons today, or more so rehearsal. Oh, it's going to be splendid." She clapped her hands together lightly, her tone slightly airy as her brown eyes danced towards Cain. "And what's wrong with your voice? It's all croaky." Delilah shrugged, "allergies." 

She felt her lips tug down slightly at the sides, she was in no mood to spin around a ballroom for hours at the rate her stamina was going. Simply walking down the stairs was winding her. 

"I promise not to step on your toes too much." Elio's voice mumbled into her hair before he pressed a kiss to her head. "Morning, how was your friend?" He asked and Delilah prodded at her food. "What?" He raised a brow at her as he bit into his breakfast. "In your letter, you said you were visiting a friend." 

She felt like smacking herself for forgetting. Delilah didn't want to lie to him, but she couldn't very well tell him she was meeting up with Dumbledore. That'd raise too many unwanted questions. "She was fine, I helped her with a little last minute gift shopping." Elio then smiled, his cheeks pushing out a bit due to the food he was eating. "Anything for me?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She mused, happy to have a distraction from the person who just walked into the room. 

"Late night?" Abraxas chuckled. And despite her efforts, Delilah turned and felt her eyebrows rise at the site of Tom. He didn't look too awful, she was sure she looked much worse, but his appearance was far less put together than usual. 

There was just a slight twinge of purple under his eyes, the color more prominent due to his pale complexion. His typical neatly done hair was in messy waves and his tie was loose. 

Who was she kidding? He didn't look awful at all, in fact, she much more preferred him this way. Delilah felt like smacking herself yet again as she became acutely aware of Elio holding her hand. 

Tom barley spared a glance at Abraxas, but it was enough to wipe the smile off the blondes face. There was some truth to the boys words. He did have a late night, which resulted in him falling asleep at his desk around five in the morning. 

There was barely anything on the Deathly Hallows in the Avery library. Which he found ridiculous all things considered. He looked at Delilah then, and noticed she too looked rather dreadful. Her skin lost the warm glow, her eyes appeared to be slightly sunken, and her lips were tinged red. He also noted how she was clearing her throat every few seconds. 

With a slight wave of his wand, his hair was back into its usual bravado, his tie straight and smooth, but the circles slightly remained. 

Delilah let a small sigh slip, she liked seeing him not put together. 

_______________________________________

They entered the ball room, the tile was an inky black and stretched out, taking in the golden light of the many massive chandeliers. The walls were high and lined with golden framed mirrors, and the ceiling held a large fresco of couples waltzing. 

Underneath them with their fine heels and boots, Delilah felt like they were treading over her as if she was nothing but dirt. 

There was an old, stern looking man standing in the middle of the room. He had a long nose, receding black hair, and pert lips. "You and you." He snapped his fingers as he pointed at Pyrrhus and Lolita. "But I'm with Cain," she began but the old man leered at her and she begrudgingly made her way towards Pyrrhus. "Oh don't look too happy." He gave her a satiric smile as she looped her arm with his, nostrils flaring. 

"You and blondie." The man snapped his fingers at Abraxas and Aurora, the couple smiling in relief. Next the man snapped his fingers at Delilah and she felt Elio's grip tighten slightly on her arm. Her heart sank as his eyes drifted towards Tom. "And you." 

"Fuck." She muttered. The look of amusement that flickered in his dark eyes made her feel like she couldn't walk properly. 

Could that actually happen? Could a person forget how to walk? As she made her way towards him, it all felt wrong. She felt wrong. Her legs felt too heavy, and they felt like they were bending the wrong way. Her steps either felt too short, or her stride too long. 

What was wrong with her? 

Despite her trouble, she managed to find herself barely a foot in front of him. "Good morning." He greeted, an easy smile on his lips. She raised a brow but had to quickly turn away to stifle a cough. After a few seconds of aggressively trying to clear her throat of a copper taste, she turned back to him with rosy cheeks. 

"Sorry." Delilah wasn't exactly concerned with the notion she was coughing up blood, mostly just annoyed. It was highly inconvenient. Before Tom could reply, the doors swung open and in stepped about half a dozen more people. 

Delilah blinked, they seemed to be about her age, maybe a little older. And all in such fine robes, one girl wore deep red silk, it could've been mistaken for blood. One boy however, caught her attention. 

He wore dark blue robes with fine bronze embroidery dancing along the cuffs. He was dark skinned, high cheekbones, and had warm brown eyes that seem to light up in the golden hue of the room. There was a small quirk to his lips that gave him a boyish charm and she stilled when his eyes landed on her. 

And then he was walking towards her. 

Absentmindedly, Delilah began to fix her hair and she turned to Tom. "Is there anything in my teeth?" She smiled widely and Tom quirked a brow, suddenly taking note of not only how some of her bottom teeth were crooked, but the flush that was crawling up her neck. His eyes danced towards the form making his way to them and something seemed to drop on his shoulders, nearly crushing him. He looked back at Delilah who was smoothing down her hair. 

"Fixing your hair would be a fruitless attempt, Pontmercy." 

She glowered at him, but it quickly melted into a smile as the boy finally neared, stopping about five feet away. "Riddle." He nodded his head once at Tom, whom only gave a slight bow of his head. "Eques." There was a hidden clip to his tone that went unnoticed, by all except Delilah of course. 

Her eyes flickered between the two, chewing on her lip in slight disappointment. "You two know each other?" 

"Sadly," he laughed and turned towards Delilah, holding out a hand. "I'm Aleksander Eques, I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting, Miss?" She placed her hand in his and he brought it to his lips, placing a feather light kiss to her knuckles. 

Tom nearly let his lip curl at the slight shiver Delilah gave at the contact. 

Sadly they knew each other, indeed. Aleksander was an insufferable git who stuck his nose in places where he didn't belong. And always the ramblings of the 'greater good', it was utter nonsense. Thankfully, Tom only ever saw him at events such as these. 

"Delilah Pontmercy." 

Tom's cheek twitched at the blush pooling in her cheeks. 

"Is that an accent I detect? Do you mind me asking where you're from?" She asked, her body leaning towards him. 

Tom suddenly felt severed off, disconnected from her, and he hated it. He was usually her sole focus, she only ever got that flustered around him, and it felt off that her attention was now aimed elsewhere. 

He felt misplaced, and that didn't settle well with him in the slightest. 

As if some deity heard his thoughts, the old man snapped his fingers at Aleksander and led him away to partner with a girl with fiery red hair. "May we talk again later." He winked before walking off, and Tom felt that weight lift off his shoulders. Only slightly. 

"Well, he seemed lovely." She mused, her eyes lingering on the boys retreating form before looking Tom. "What?" There a gleam in his eye that she hadn't seen before, she couldn't place it. 

"I must admit, it's so amusing watching you make an attempt at courting." His lips quirked at the sight of her eyes widening, that lovely blush deepening in her cheeks. 

He could accept that blush, for he was the one who caused it. "And I must say," he leaned in close and Delilah's breath caught in her throat. Flashes of last night arose. 

He was so close. 

Burnt wood, parchment, cigarettes. 

"What would dear Rosier think? Seeing you in such a flustered state and all caused by another man?" His breath warmed the side of her face and she felt like smacking him. But he was right. What the hell was she doing? 

She had a boyfriend for Merlin's sake. 

Her eyes flickered around the room and saw Elio was arguing with Olive on foot placement. 

"I've no idea what you're on about." It was a rather lame response, but she couldn't think straight. Tom simply raised a brow at her response before turning to their apparent dance instructor. The sudden urge to punch him in the ribs was strong, but Delilah forced herself to face front. 

"Good morning, my name is Andonis and I'll be coordinating these rehearsals." The old man quipped, his voice echoing off the walls. "Form two rows, partners facing each other, men on the left, women on the right." 

The group did as told, and Delilah found herself standing five feet across from Tom. He didn't appear too thrilled to be there, and she was sure he'd rather be hexing someone or something into oblivion. Or something worse...

She shivered as she thought of Katerina's back. 

No, she didn't know if Tom was responsible for that. Innocent until proven guilty, she had to remember that. Although, as she thought about how Tom nearly pushed her off a tower to plummet to her death, how innocent could he be? 

Andonis walked through the two rows, back straight and chin held high, his eyes scrutinized each and everyone of them. He stopped in front of Delilah, a judgemental glint flickered across his features as he looked her over. "And you are?" 

She glanced at Lolita to find her stifling a laugh at her predicament. "Delilah Pontmercy, sir." Was she supposed to bow? It felt like that's what he was expecting. "And do you know the workings of Regency dancing, Miss Pontmercy?" 

A scowl nearly made its way to her lips. His belittling tone made her feel like an incompetent five year old. She wanted to say yes, of course she knew. But learning how to dance hasn't ever been one of her priorities, and lying would only make a fool of herself. 

"I've never had the chance to learn." Her voice was clipped as Delilah locked eyes with Tom, who seemed to be enjoying her embarrassment. 

"Clearly," Andonis said. He sighed and looked at Tom, "I trust you can handle this?" Was she dreaming or was there a hint of respect shown as he addressed Tom? Delilah bit at her lip, she knew he was popular at school, but it never occurred to her he might actually have a name for himself outside of Hogwarts. 

Which was stupid of her, really. Of course he'd create a title for himself, he had to build up the right reputation if he ever wanted to succeed. His ambition was a strong fist that seemed to motivate everything he did. 

Tom tilted his head down slightly, "of course, sir." His dark eyes landed back on Delilah. As amusing as it would be to watch her stumble along and fail, his patience could only wear so thin. Hopefully her dancing wasn't as dreadful as her singing. 

Their instructor walked through the steps a few times, taking full pleasure in offending Delilah at any given moment. After nearly an hour, Andonis clapped his hands and music started playing, a nice orchestral tune that went in step with their moves. 

Delilah mentally counted the rhythm so she would know when to start. Her palms were sweating and she wiped them impatiently on her robes. Why was she nervous? 

It was only Tom she was dancing with, and it wasn't necessarily romantic. Plus there's witnesses if he decided to pull anything. Which he probably wouldn't, he was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. 

A chord struck on an invisible violin, the beautiful sound echoing off the marble floors and everyone stepped forward. 

Delilah felt her heart pick up pace as she watched Tom grow near, his right arm out and she lightly placed her hand in his as they walked in a circle. It felt strange touching him, a notion she realized was highly uncommon. Sure, they've come into contact before. 

For instance, when she nearly passed out in his arms and he had to carry her. When he pinned her to a wall. When they helped each other walk to the infirmary after their duel. When he took off her socks. When he held her chin. When she held onto him after almost falling to her death. And just last night, when his cheek lightly grazed hers. 

But this was different, this was intentional by both parties and strangely enough, it felt normal. 

It almost felt right.

They continued with the steps, Delilah only fumbling a little as she walked around Olive to join Tom again. He took her hand in his as they turned, taking two steps forward, then back. "May I ask a question?" His voice was just barely drowned out by the music and the others light chatter. 

She wanted to say no, or something more snarky, but she knew he'd ask anyway. Delilah nodded as they stepped away from each other and paused as another couple walked around them before joining back together. "What else do you know about the Deathly Hallows?" Tom felt her body slightly stiffen beside him, but she thankfully kept dancing. "Are you still on that? It's just a fairytale Riddle." 

A pang of worry shot through her stomach but she couldn't identify the source. "Enlighten me then." He chided as he stepped around a girl from the new group. Delilah didn't miss the way the blondes eyes followed Tom's form. 

She had to admit, he looked more stoic than usual and all the more alluring. His clothes fit his form well and the golden light of the room seemed to seep into his skin. He was practically glowing with an enigmatic aura. Delilah debated with herself as Tom led them down the line, weaving between others with graceful steps. 

"Which of the hallows would you like to know about?" A sigh left her lips, she felt weak for giving in so easily. But Tom would no doubt press her further until he got what he wanted. 

The Elder wand was his main concern, but there was no need to be so obvious. "The cloak of Invisibility is a strange one. There are many means of obtaining a cloak, they're quite expensive, what makes this one in particular special?" As they danced across from each other, Delilah did her best to ignore the dark brown eyes burning into the side of her face, effectively heating up her cheeks. 

"Well for starters, this cloak was crafted by Death itself, or so it's believed. And this cloak is true, unlike ones you can buy. Bought invisibility cloaks wear out over time, but this one has infinite strength. Which is why the third brother was able to hide his whole life. And then he gifted it to his son, and so forth." 

Tom hummed as they stepped towards each other, barely a foot apart. Both their arms were raised, palms out as they lightly pressed together, before stepping away. 

Her skin was still cold. 

"And the Elder Wand?" Currently, he was positive Grindelwald was in possession of it, which is why his plans for France this upcoming summer were in motion. But he didn't know the full scale of the legend, and to his delight, he had a book about the tale in the form a five foot two insufferable blonde. 

"I don't know too much about it," Delilah's throat itched with the need to cough, and she felt something warm pool at the base of her tongue, but she forced herself to clear her throat. "But I think there's a reason it's so powerful, and not just that Death supposedly created it." 

Tom looked down at her with a curious glint in his eyes, and Delilah recognized it almost instantly. The sight made an odd, warm feeling swarm in her chest. He had that same glimmer, a thirst for knowledge, that she so often saw Hermione get. It was endearing and Delilah had to blink away the feeling. 

Endearment and Tom Riddle are two things she never would've put together. 

"Yes the wood is from an Elder tree. However, think about it! The core is from a thestral! Creatures so rare and that which represent the after effects of death." The blank look Tom was giving her made Delilah scoff. "Please tell me you're not one of those people who don't think they're real." Tom only slightly shrugged as they took careful steps around each other, in tune with the music. "There are very few accounts proving their existence."

"Well proving you wrong will be easy, seeing as they pull the carriages at Hogwarts. The forest is filled with them! And at night you can see them soaring above the trees, in winter it's quite haunting seeing as they look rather intimidating-"

"Pontmercy," Tom's tone made Delilah stop her rambling, that glimmer had shifted to something else. Perhaps consternation? But no, that couldn't be it. "What?" Delilah said dumbly and felt suddenly small as they stepped towards each other again. As her hand lightly touched his, the warmth from his skin shot through her, sending a rage of a shiver down her spine. 

What was wrong with her? 

"You've seen a thestral?" 

She nodded, not going further on the subject. 

Tom looked at her for a moment. Really looked at her. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot, indicating she didn't get much sleep. But he wondered what else those blue pools had seen. 

What wonders, what secrets, what knowledge, what horrors. He wanted to know about everything that was wrapped up in that sublime mind of hers. 

It took him a second to process what she'd said. Delilah had the ability to see thestrals, which were creatures many debated on the existence of. He didn't completely doubt whether or not they were real, but Tom needed to see things to believe them. But he's read on many accounts that the only way to gain the ability to see a Thestral, is for someone to witness death and truly be moved by it. 

As they danced, Tom wondered what her life was like before Hogwarts. She never talked about anything concerning her family or friends. Which was curious in itself, given how attached she seems to get to people. As he watched the mess of blonde hair move around the room, steps in sync with his, he tried to guess at who she might've lost. Most likely due to the war effort, but she never indicated signs of mourning. Perhaps solemn glances now and then, but he always just assumed she was reminiscing in her own self pity. 

"Are you an only child?" 

His question caught her off guard, causing Delilah to trip slightly over her own feet. "Sorry, what?" Why in the name of Merlin was he asking her that? Why would Tom bother to ask about her personal life. Surely not to make light conversation, Tom wasn't the type to initiate mindless conversation. 

"Do you have any siblings?" He raised an eyebrow at her sudden shift in behavior. Something in her closed off, a guard seemed to fall. 

She didn't trust him. 

He sighed at the thought. Yes, he supposed he's made it rather difficult for her to trust him. Which was a pity, really. Everything would be so much easier if she blindly fell into his palm. But a part of himself actually liked her the way she was. She was resilient, which was at times annoying, but she wasn't so easily persuaded. And Tom loved a challenge.

"Why do you want to know?" The look she was giving him was rather amusing. "Simple curiosity, Pontmercy." 

Would there be any harm in telling him? She supposed not. After all, Delilah opened up to Elio, and she wasn't exactly divulging information of the future. 

She talked about her brother, how insufferable she found her mother, her best friends. Delilah paused as Harry's bright green eyes sprung into her mind, mischievous and alive with hope. 

"This Harry seems like quite the character, he took down a troll when you were eleven?" Tom asked, moving around her in a circle before stopping in front of her so she could do the same. "It was an interesting year, to say the least." There was a newfound lightness in her, he could physically feel whatever stress was weighing on her shoulders lift. 

The song ended in a smooth, sharp, single note. All the couples back in their rows, facing each other. 

Much to her surprise, Delilah enjoyed herself. 

_______________________________________

 

Dance lessons had continued for the next few days. In all, Tom supposed it could've been worse. But he had better things to do with his time. 

Making his way to the third floor, to his surprise all the boys were already present. Which was odd, seeing at they usually stumbled in late. Tom raised an eyebrow at Abraxas, who was fidgeting with the sleeve of his robes and his eyes were flickering all around the room. 

Perhaps he's worried his dear Aurora will catch wind of his summer plans? The girl would no doubt disagree. Yes, he’d have to do something about her. Aurora wouldn’t see eye to eye on their particular views and would no doubt cause unnecessary trouble. Though, Tom would have to be careful. Abraxas was obviously infatuated with the witch, and if Tom did anything too brash, Abraxas himself would become a problem. 

Sitting himself down, Tom motioned for the others to do the same. The room they were in was a sort of study. Moderately high ceilings, tall windows, numerous bookshelves, and a large table for meetings. Slap a few maps on the walls, one could even consider it a war room. 

"I assume you're all familiar with the works of Beedle the Bard?" He was met with nods and a few confused stares. So just the same, they all thought it was the simple workings of a fairytale. "Do the Deathly Hallows ring any bells?" He asked. The boys looked at each other for a moment before shrugging. 

"No, sir." Elio mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck. Tom sighed slightly through his nose, of course they wouldn't know. "But you all know of the Three Brothers?" 

"Yes, sir. The wand, stone, and cloak?" Abraxas racked his brain for the details of the story. But it's been years since he's read it. His nanny would read it to him before bed, which was a bit odd considering how dark the tale was. 

"Correct, or in other words, those are the Deathly Hallows. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. Dear Grindelwald is in possession of one." He said slowly, watching their reactions carefully. He was mostly met with furrowed brows and Pyrrhus shook his head. "Wait a minute, you think the Elder Wand is the same one from the story?" 

"It makes sense, it's fashioned from the Elder tree, is known to be the most powerful," he trailed, they boys' expressions went unwavered. "That doesn't explain the other two. What about the stone and cloak?" Cain asked, earning nods from the others. 

"That's what you're all for, you're all to go and begin research. Find information wherever you can, trips to Knockturn alley wouldn't hurt. And this summer will provide endless opportunities." Tom stared out the window, not looking at anything in particular. He noticed a grove of sorts not too far off, accompanied by what appeared to be a garden of statues. And in the midst was a blonde girl staring up at what appeared to be a fallen angel, holding its severed wings in his hands. 

Even from this distance, Tom could tell Delilah was enraptured with the sculpture.

"See to it and bring me what you find." 

______________________________________

 

There was a sharp rap on her door and Delilah nearly fell off her bed. Her mind was fuzzy, it was on the brink of unconsciousness and she blinked away the feeling. Yawning, she tightened her robe around her as she opened the door. 

"Elio? What time is it?" 

He smiled at her and grabbed her hand, not bothering to answer her question. "C'mon. I've got something to show you." He tugged her down the hall despite her whispered protests, Delilah tripped a few times due to the dim lighting provided by few candles. 

After what felt like ages, Elio stopped in front of two large oaken doors. Delilah looked around, not recognizing the hall around her. She hadn't ventured to this side of the manor yet. "Are we allowed to be here?" She said as quietly as she could, but her voice sounded incredibly loud to her own ears. "Do we see a sign that says we aren't?" 

She raised a brow at him, he was in an awfully good mood. Elio opened the door a bit and peaked his head in before pulling back. "Cover your eyes." Delilah stared at him blankly, "What?" Elio muttered something under his breath as he walked behind her, taking liberty in doing the task for her. 

He slowly led her forward and pushed open the door, Delilah taking careful steps as she went. "What've you got planned?" She laughed quietly, listening as intently as she could to get any context clues. 

Elio shut the door with his foot once they were inside and slowly uncovered her eyes. He rested his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward, his lips softly brushing against her ear. "Open." 

Delilah did as told and smiled at her surroundings. It was a large room with hardwood floors, but the entire wall opposite of her was of floor to ceiling windows. Making the room almost appear to be opening up to a meadow. There was only about half a foot of wall space between each window, and even then it was painted a dark blue that matched the night sky. It almost felt like there was no wall at all. 

Moonlight flooded the room, the blue tint being the only light source. Delilah squealed slightly as a Elio took hold of her hand and spun her around. "Do you like it?" He had a warming smile on his lips that she felt her eyes drawn to. She nodded once, and before she knew it they were kissing. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he placed his hands at her waist. 

Elio leaned back, looking down at her with a lovely blush as he led them around the room in a graceful steps. "I wanted us to have our own private dance before the ball." He whispered, but even then his voice echoed around the room. "It's lovely, even though you did drag me out of bed." Delilah chided with a bemused expression. 

"Yeah, but aren't I so much better than sleep?" He pecked her forehead, then her nose as she hummed. "Not really, no." Elio raised a brow and then pressed a light kiss to her lips. "Really?" 

"Really. You ought to try something else if you think I wouldn't go back to bed in a heartbeat-" he picked her up then and Delilah let out a sharp laugh of surprise. Elio spun her around, lifting her by her waist and she gripped onto his shoulders. "Elio if you drop me I swear to God I'll-" 

"You'll what?" He lowered her only slightly, hinting at her to wrap her legs around him. Which she obliged to absentmindedly. "I don't know," she muttered and brushed his hair back. "I think you'd look rather fetching with pink hair, would you not?" 

He hummed, feigning to think about it for a moment and he couldn't help but smile as Delilah laughed. "Do your worst." He dared and she kissed him lightly. "Oh, I will." 

He rested his forehead against her and closed his eyes for a moment. "Can I tell you something that mind sound absolutely ridiculous?" Delilah hummed and messed with the hair at the nape of his neck. Elio adjusted his hold on her, wrapping his arms more securely around her waist so she wouldn't fall. 

"I think you own my heart, Delilah Pontmercy." 

He felt her freeze up and panic shot through him. He wondered if it was too soon to admit such a thing, or if he did it too abruptly. But then Delilah shook her head and continued to mess with his hair. "You don't know what you're saying." Her voice was so quiet Elio almost didn't hear her, but her breath was warm on his lips. 

"I know perfectly well what I'm saying. I'd do whatever it takes to make sure you're happy, y'know. I'd protect you from anything, you know that right? I'm here. For whatever you need." 

Each word from him was like a knife in her chest. He didn't know what he was saying. How could he? How could Elio possibly feel that way about her? What has she done to make him feel such a way? If anything, he should be breaking up with her right now. 

"You don't mean any of that." Delilah closed her eyes at the warm touch of his hand against her cheek. His thumb grazed softly over the skin, back and forth. "I mean every word. I always will." 

"How do you know? Things change. People change. What if, I don't know... down the line you might find out something about me that you hate? You notice my flaws, and then you can't stand me. All that time would have been wasted." Delilah didn't understand. She couldn't. How can anyone possibly love her in such a way, when she never gives anything in return? 

"Are they flaws if I'm in love with them?" 

They finally looked at each other then. Only inches apart. Blue staring deeply into green. Her breath hitched. There was that one word. That terrible, yet beautiful word. 

Love. 

Love only got people hurt, it got them killed. 

Delilah couldn't find any words suitable enough to reply. Her mind was moving a mile a minute and her eyes were dashing across his face. Trying to pinpoint any signs of him lying. Trying to find out if this was some sort of cruel trick. That he didn’t mean to say it. She was waiting for him to take it back. 

Elio smiled then. It was small, but it was enough to calm her down. "It's okay." 

And it really was. 

He didn't need her to say anything. He knew she might not love him back. And that was okay. He would take it day by day, and maybe over time, things would change. Maybe not. And he kept telling himself that was okay, too.

Delilah placed both hands on each side of his face, letting the warmth fill her. Elio repressed a shiver at how cold her touch was, he thought he'd be used to it by now. He slowly leaned forward to kiss her and felt a bullet of relief hit him in his chest as she responded. Kissing him with a certain fervor he wasn't aware she had. 

______________________________________

 

Delilah breathed slowly through her nose as she lightly ran a hand up and down his chest. His face was rested in a blissful slumber, a slight smile to his lips. She stared in a strange fascination at how his hair fell against the pillow in light brown waves, a contrast against the creme colored fabric. 

Her skin felt smooth against the silken sheets, Delilah felt bare and warm. There was a sort of vulnerability to them at the moment. Both naked beneath the sheets, bodies pressed together in tired content after the events that took place only two hours prior. 

They'd both given a part of each other up, and it was gentle and good. 

Delilah sighed lightly through her nose and sat up, brushing her knotted hair back from her face. She kept desperately pushing back the thoughts threatening to ruin her whole mood. 

Thoughts of what lies ahead. Of what she just did with Elio, and how much she'll undoubtedly hurt him in the future. She was going home at some point, she knew that. But he didn't. And she'd just given him false hope. 

That was enough to make any man break, no matter how strong they were. 

Delilah began to get up, but an arm snaked around her waist and held her softly but firmly. She looked over and found Elio looking up at her through shining eyes, a tired smile to his slightly bruised lips. 

"Stay with me, darling." He mumbled, clearly on the verge of passing out soon. Elio didn't want her to leave, her presence alone seemed to anchor him down to reality. 

Delilah pulled his arm away and gripped his hand, placing a kiss to knuckles. 

And she stayed.

As she laid down however, the one thought that posed the most threat broke through her minds barricade. And that thought was of a certain boy who smelt like burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Late the next evening when everyone else was down in a sitting room or outside, Delilah went to fetch Pyrrhus, seeing as he hadn't left his room all day. 

She knocked twice but there was no answer. "Pyrrhus, love. Are you alright?" No response. Delilah went to turn to leave but heard glass shattering from the other side of the door, followed by muffled cursing. With a furrow of her brow, she unlocked the door and rushed inside. "Pyrrhus?" He wasn't anywhere in the room, when she turned, Delilah spotted a beam of light coming from the bathroom door. 

Biting at her lip worriedly, she walked over and lightly wrapped on the door. "You okay?" There was a sigh from the other side, and a beat of silence passed before Pyrrhus muttered for her to come in. 

When she opened the door, her eyes widened as she took in the sight in front of her. "Merlin, what happened?" There was a bottle of fire whiskey shattered on the floor and she could smell the alcohol off him. Pyrrhus sat slumped in the tub, fully dressed, and he looked dreadful. 

His eyes were swollen and red rimmed, his hair was a mess, and his clothing was askew. With a wave of her hand, Delilah cleared the glass and knelt by the tub. He wasn't looking at her, instead his eyes were trained on his hands. 

Looking over, Delilah realized he was clutching a letter. Tears were threatening to spill over and he sniffed before aggressively wiping at his eyes. She took it he wasn't one to typically cry, at least not in front of someone. Delilah looked at him in worry and brushed his hair back before standing up to go the sink. 

She wet a cloth with warm water and went back to the tub. She was giving him time to talk if he wanted, not wanting to force him into saying anything. They weren't relatively close. The most time they spent together was probably when he took her dress shopping. But Pyrrhus was different from the rest of the group, he always had a smile on his face and a joke to tell. There was a lightness in him. 

He closed his eyes as Delilah patted his forehead with the cloth, she slowly made her way to his cheeks and pressed the fabric under his sore eyes. Nearly ten minutes passed before he finally spoke. 

"He broke up with me." His voice was strained and he turned his face away from her, too scared to gauge her reaction. Delilah let out a small breath through her nose and placed a hand to his cheek, turning him to face her. 

Pyrrhus looked at her slowly and felt his shoulders relax at the reassuring smile on her lips. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He rested his own hand above hers and gave it a squeeze, it was cold but it helped wake him up a bit. 

He looked at her a long moment, searching her eyes for any hint of judgement. He found none, and there was an overwhelming urge to hug her, but he refrained and stuck to holding her hand. 

"His name's Ovela, I met him last summer in Greece." Pyrrhus began slowly, a hint of a reminiscent smile on his lips. He remembered how they stumbled upon each other, in an odd circumstance to say the least. His family was on holiday, but Pyrrhus snuck out one night to tour Santorini on his own. And at a small cafe on a street corner, he met Ovela. He was a waiter, but was nearing the end of his shift so he sat to talk with Pyrrhus. Ovela was already done with school, being eighteen. And Pyrrhus was a sixteen year old suddenly infatuated with the olive skinned boy in front of him, hanging off every word. For the rest of the holiday, Ovela showed him around, took him to smaller islands, and eventually they fell enraptured with one another. But the trip came to and end, and they departed. 

"We've been sort of going about long distance, through letters." He said with a sniff, staring at Ovela's scrawl on the parchment. "It obviously wasn't working for him." Delilah rubbed his back lightly, offering as much comfort as she could. She wasn't too great at this sort of thing. He sighed and let his hands fall limp against his propped up knees, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Did I do something wrong? We should've met up, but with school-"

"Hey," Delilah said quietly, urging him to look at her. "Do not blame yourself. Not everything works out, not everything has to." She watched as he clenched his jaw and sighed. "What did he say in the letter?" 

Pyrrhus laughed dryly and glared at the offending note. "Not much, the usual. He basically apologized for things going south, but he wanted 'more' and that was something I couldn't give him. And then he said bye." With a groan, he rested his forehead on his knees. Delilah took to running her fingers through his hair, she always saw Ginny do that to Harry, and it seemed to calm him down. 

"A clean cut heals the quickest." Delilah watched the boy in front of her carefully and felt like hexing whoever this Ovela was for breaking him. She's never seen Pyrrhus in such a state. "Associations held together by simple parchment aren't always the happiest, if you can't hear or touch someone, it's best to let them go." 

She took his face in her hands, letting her thumbs run softly underneath his eyes. The cool touch of her fingers soothed him a bit and he felt like crying again, his throat grew tight and a pressure built behind his eyes. "I know you probably want me to tell you everything will be rays of sunshine by tomorrow." 

He smiled slightly, "that would be nice." Delilah shook her head and pulled him into a hug, resting her chin atop his head. Pyrrhus closed his eyes at her touch and felt the tears threatening to spill over run down his cheeks. She smelt like peppermint and it was oddly comforting. "Lies are often used in kindness, but I don't think lies ever really work to such a benefit. There's a quick pain to truth that easily passes. But the slow ache of a lie can eat at someone, it can damage their heart, it's an agony never lost." 

They sat like that for a few minutes, or maybe it was hours. They didn't know. "Give yourself time to heal, Pyrrhus. Don't try to bottle it up and act like it doesn't hurt. That will only make things worse." She pulled back and wiped away his tears with the damp cloth, he smiled lightly at her. 

"Has anyone ever broken up with you? Was it sudden, were you expecting it all?" He asked after a moment, not really sure if he was allowed to. Delilah hummed as she thought about it, she hadn't really dated anyone until Elio. 

Pyrrhus read the expression on her face differently than what it actually meant and gave her hand a squeeze. Smiling at her sympathetically. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a flask and took a swig of whiskey. "To us, the ones who fall in love alone." He handed her the flask and she stared at it for a moment. An odd tug in her chest started, and she hesitantly took a gulp of the burning liquid. 

"To us."

She made a face at the foul alcohol and stood up, helping him out of the tub. As they walked into his room, Delilah made way for his door but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Don't tell any of the boys, please." There was a glint in his eyes she wasn't familiar with, he was asking for a promise.

"It's just... I'm not ready for them to know yet." He shuffled on his feet and let out a breath and she hugged him. "Of course, whatever you need. Come to me if you need help, okay? I'm always available." Delilah smiled at him once more before leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

Pyrrhus stared at the door for a few moments before shaking his head. He liked Delilah, she was a genuine person and had a heart of gold. It was just a shame she fell into the likes of being their friend. they weren’t decent people, no matter how much she convinced herself other wise. It was even more a shame Tom took an interest in her. In truth, Pyrrhus was worried, and slightly scared for the girl. 

He just prayed Tom would find something else to occupy his curiosity before he hurt her. 

 

_______________________________________

 

She was bored out of her wits, so she took to trying to balance her wand on her nose. 

Tom sat at a desk in the library a few feet away from her, observing the action with a raised brow and a slight quirk of his lips. She looked like a five year old at the moment, he wouldn't be surprised if she ended up poking her eye out. 

Delilah carefully placed her wand on the tip of her nose, her head tilted back, and she slowly let go of her wand. And for a mere second, the wand stood tall. Tom watched her eyes light up, but all too soon the wand fell over. "Damn!" She sighed, only to start over. 

He narrowed his eyes and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "Pontmercy, that's the twelfth attempt. It's honestly growing to be a bit embarrassing." Her own eyes narrowed in a glare, but she kept her gaze focused on her wand. "I'll have you know it's much harder than it looks." 

The wand fell over again and she huffed, finally turning to look at him. He held an amused glimmer in his dark eyes and she felt a blush creeping up her neck, only just realizing he'd been watching her the whole time. "Why don't you try it then?" 

Tom raised a brow. "You want me to balance a wand on my nose like an absolute imbecile?" Delilah nodded and her jaw ticked, gesturing for him to go for it. "No, thank you." He said simply, and opened a book to indicate the conversation was over. But alas, her heavy gaze could be felt and after a moment, he looked up at her through his lashes. 

"Why not? Afraid you'll fail?" She was taunting him, that was obvious. Tom was good at everything, a fact he was well aware of. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and held out a hand. Only to be met with a questioning glance. "Your wand," He said flatly, as if it should be obvious. 

"Excuse me?" Delilah's hand held her own tightly, not at all trusting him in the slightest. "I can't very well use mine, the handle wouldn't be suitable and would give you an unfair advantage." He raised his brows expectantly, and with a sigh, Delilah hesitantly handed her wand over. 

He leaned his head back, and she did her best to ignore the way the tendons in his neck stretched. Delilah also found herself staring at his hands a bit too much, they way he handled her wand made it seem far too elegant than necessary. After a few seconds of him balancing it on his nose, he let go, and it only swayed slightly. 

Her jaw went slack and Tom could physically feel the daggers she was glaring at him, he couldn't help but smirk. Delilah leaned over the table and snatched her wand back, muttering a few swears under her breath. 

Tom tsk-d with the shake of his head. "Such a sore loser? Really, Pontmercy, I expected better sportsmanship from you." Her lip curled as she shoved her wand in her pocket, "piss off." 

He then stood, "alright." And he began to walk off. Her brows furrowed as she watched his form start to retreat. Despite herself, the question left her lips before she could stop it. "Where are you going?" 

Without looking at her, he said, "I'm doing as told, for once." He turned the corner that exited the library and Delilah bit at her lip, mentally debating with herself. With a groan, she stood up and followed after him. 

When she turned the corner, she found Tom leaning against the wall, looking down at her with a knowing tilt to his lips. She felt like smacking herself.

He knew she'd follow. 

Delilah set her jaw and started forward, Tom falling in step with her. His mouth opened but she held up a hand, "not a word from you." Tom closed his lips slowly, though a near smile was threatening to surface. He did oh so love to rile her up, it put him in such a good mood. 

 

_______________________________________

 

They walked for awhile in silence, Delilah lost in the memory of the night before, of her night with Elio. 

"Do near nude statues really make you that flustered?" A voice mused and she early screamed. Whirling around, Delilah found Tom looking down at her with his head slightly tilted. 

Without realizing, Delilah followed him outside to the statue garden, which was well away from the manor. Clearing her throat, she turned her back to him and weaved between the sculptures. She couldn't stand thinking about last night. Not because it was a bad experience, far from it. She just felt so disgustingly guilty for what she couldn't get her mind off afterwards. 

Usually, like any normal person, their thoughts would be filled with the image of their lover. But in Delilah's fucked up mind, she couldn't stop thinking of the boy she was currently with. 

Every time she tried to go to sleep, his dark coffee eyes invaded her mind. Every time Elio would tighten his grip around her, she couldn't help but remember that day Tom slowly took off her socks... or the day he pinned her to the wall. And his stupid scent, she was so used to it now, she often found herself longing for it when he wasn't around. 

Burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes. 

Delilah turned and saw Tom was eyeing a sculpture of a man in an oratory pose, with scholarly like drapes about him. The mans chin was held high, and column was supporting him at his feet. The sculpture was that of a leader, a man of power, a man of the people.

As she looked at Tom, she couldn't help but see sone of the same characteristics. He was a natural born leader. 

His head was tilted up as he gazed critically at the marble, Delilah's eyes trailed along the line of his jaw and watched the way the wind ruffled his dark curls. 

Damn him. 

"Is that your favorite?" She said after a moment, trying her best to regain her composure. He blinked, nearly forgetting she was there. "I don't necessarily have a favorite." 

Delilah rolled her eyes and gestured to the statues around them. "But of the others, is that your most preferred?" Tom turned back to the man, and after a moment, nodded once. "I suppose." 

She walked over to stand next to him, tilting her own head up to look. It was beautifully carved. "This is similar to the statue of Augustus of Primaporta, same stance and subject manner." Delilah muttered, the only thing really missing was his chest plate, slightly shorter hair, and a Cupid at his feet.

Tom hummed, looking at her for a moment before turning his gaze to the rest of the garden. "And which of these is your favorite?" He knew exactly which one it was, it was the fallen angel. She could be seen clearly from the third floor window each time she went to the garden, and each time Tom found her gazing at the sculpture. 

As expected, Delilah made a beeline for it. She almost seemed eager to show him it. 

The angel sat on a rock, chains were around each ankle and bound into the base. The figure sat hunched and its face showed one of agony and defeat. The angel had its mouth hung ajar, almost in a silent wail, and a tear could be seen falling from its eye. And in its arms held two large, severed wings. Littered at the base of the rock were feathers that had withered. Tom circled to the back of the statue, and the stumps of where the wings once were could be seen. The cuts were jagged and other scars lined the taut muscles. 

"Do you suppose it's Lucifer?" Delilah asked, there was something odd in her voice. Tom peered around the marble, taking in her emotional response to the artwork. It was strange, how inanimate objects could move people in such a way. He didn't understand it. Delilah's brows were furrowed, she was biting at her lip, and she looked troubled as she gazed upon the forsaken angel. 

He wasn't too well versed in biblical allusions, but he supposed Lucifer wouldn't be too far off. "Perhaps."

"I personally find the story rather depressing." A sigh passed her lips and she sat on a stone carved bench, her neck craned upwards. "He became so impressed with his own intelligence, power, and beauty that he desired more. He desired the honor and glory that belonged to god alone. But this ruined him, and it was his downfall, he was cast out of Heaven. Deprived of his title of god's favorite angel. His pride is believed to be the beginning of sin in the universe- preceding the fall of Adam in time." 

Her eyes shifted to Tom and she bit at her bottom lip. Delilah couldn't help but wonder if his own pride would eventually cause him to fall. There was no shortage of similarities between him and the fallen angel before them. 

“The same goes for Hades, in a sense. He’s the rejected brother, and was forsaken to rule the underworld even though he didn’t want to. He too was cast out from Olympus. And all grew to fear the lonely god. But he got the better deal, I suppose. He found his Persephone.” Though kidnapping her was a bit excessive, Delilah supposed. But it was true, honest love in the end. And Hades was the only loyal husband of the Gods. Unlike his man-whore brother, Zeus. 

Tom began to walk off and she trailed behind, not having anything better to do and a poor sense in judgement. "Are you excited for the ball?" 

"Excited?" He scoffed, "hardly. This ball is purely for the purpose of pretense. It's an excuse to spend an excessive amount of money to flaunt position and status. It's also a way for certain families to make sure their ties within the Ministry stay strong." The ball was also a way for him to make connections that will secure his own future. But she didn't need to know that. 

"The Sacred Twenty Eight are desperate in my opinion. They're dying out, lineages are going either dry or are being infected with mud- with non pure blood." He stopped himself from saying the term. It wasn't to be kind, he just wasn't in the mood to hear Delilah yell at him. "So what are they doing? Trying to find suitable means for continuing. Money alone won't always save them, and the Ministry has global connections. It's children playing politics." 

He walked more into the wooded area of the land owned by the Avery's, they had a rather large deposit of forests. His steps were careful and well practiced as he avoided dips and branches. Delilah however, was trying her best not to trip. "And nowadays, people have no bloody clue what they're doing. People who inherited their money always get into trouble." 

"Then why come if you loathe it so much?" She said after a moment, pushing a low tree branch out of the way. 

That was a simple, yet very complicated question. With a simple, yet very complicated answer. 

He couldn't tell her, though Tom slightly questioned why not. He knew she wouldn't judge him, and that alone irked him. Delilah has a certain hopefulness to her that he couldn’t wrap his mind around. The world was too cruel for such fantasies. Tom learned that at a young age. 

His reasons for coming were simple. For one; business opportunities. Delilah knew he was an ambitious person, so it wouldn't be too questionable. And second; he would be damned if he had to spend his last holiday at Wool's Orphanage. 

That he wouldn't dare tell her. She already knew much more about him than he cared to admit, but if Delilah knew of his past, that'd be giving her too much. Too much of what, exactly? Knowledge? A power over him?

No, that was ridiculous. He barely knew of her childhood, what right did Delilah have to know of his? 

"I was invited," he finally answered. "It'd be rude to decline such an offer." Delilah didn't believe him, but knew it would be pointless to push. 

"Have you ever heard of Leopold and Loeb?" She asked, not liking the sudden silence that fell over them. Even the wooded area seemed awfully quiet. Tom shook his head, not finding the names familiar. Delilah felt herself smiling at the notion she knew something Tom didn't, but it quickly fell away at the note that Tom typically found muggle related topics useless. 

"It's a famous trial from 1924, of two college students in Chicago convicted of kidnapping and murder." She began and Tom hummed. "Is this a muggle trial?" He asked and she shot him a look. "Yes, now listen." He bit at his cheek but nodded, not having the energy to tell her he didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to argue. 

"They were teenagers from a wealthy Chicago suburb, top of their classes and got into college early. Both incredibly intelligent, but they grew bored of their circumstances and needed entertainment." 

"So they planned to kidnap one of their classmates, things went a little off plan and said classmate ended up getting murdered. They were found guilty, but had an incredible defense. He used empathy to provoke the judge into feeling responsible if he sentenced the boys to death, saying their blood would be on his hands. And how the rest of young boys in America would feel the weight as well." 

"Is there a point to this?" Tom sighed, pushing a branch back and letting go, pointedly hitting Delilah in the face. She cursed under her breath and shoved the leaves away, brushing the hair and twigs from her face. "Yes there's a point you asshole." He raised a brow at the crude name but let her continue. 

"The boys were spared their lives and sentenced to life in prison. What the case basically proved is, that if you have enough money and status, you can basically get away with anything. I see so much of that still nowadays, and it's so frustrating. Leopold and Loeb thought they were smarter than everyone, it was like a game to them. And that poor boy they killed was nothing but a chess piece to keep them entertained."

Disgust at the two filled her chest and prodded at her heart. And as her eyes landed on Tom, she couldn't help but see some of the same traits. He too, liked to play with people. Simply because he could.

Tom didn't miss the sudden shift in her aura, or the darkening of her eyes. There it was, that familiar hatred towards him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "what've I done now?" 

"Oh don't give me that shit." She spat, taking a brave step forward and poked him in the chest. "You're just like the rest of those 'children playing politics' whether or not you recognize it. You're narcissistic and proud, and you just as well play with people. Not bothering for how you might affect them. Are you forgetting what happened to Xan and Katerina? Or that time you shoved me against a wall? Oh! Or that time you nearly threw me off the fucking astronomy tower?" Tom took hold of her hand and pulled it away, not finding her yelling at him amusing.

Oh, if only she knew the similarities he had with Leopold and Loeb. If she did, Delilah would surely be running away screaming. 

Flashes of the night he killed his father rang in his mind, the green bursts of light brightening up the room at Riddle Manor. 

Yes, she'd surely be afraid of him if she knew. 

But he was not a child, and he wasn't simply playing a game. No, he knew the inner workings of politics. He knew how it's leaders thought, he knew how to strategize, and he had a plan to get to the top. He also knew how people thought, he knew their desires. And he was a master at bending people to his will through their weaknesses. 

Delilah tried to ignore the way his hand felt as it engulfed her own, it was warm and the pads of his fingers slightly calloused. And they were so close, she could nearly feel his body against hers. Their breaths swirled around each other in the crisp air, the grass soft beneath their shoes, only inches apart. 

"I'd caution you against making such broad judgements of character. Have you forgotten you nearly killed me as well?" Tom spoke quietly, though they were the only two people in at least a two mile radius. Which should've frightened her, but Delilah oddly felt at peace with the notion. 

He began to step back and her hand fell from his. She felt cold all the sudden, and her steps followed his without a thought. What was wrong with her? He broke through a few trees and led them into a clearing, somewhat similar to a meadow. 

"Tomorrow is surely going to be exhausting." He began, but Delilah tuned him out. Her eyes were trained on the way his body moved. Tom never seemed to be out of place, any where they went. He always knew how to fit in, how to walk, how to speak. He adapted to the environment around him, and warped it to fit his needs. It was fascinating. 

He then bent down and picked up a twig, twirling it a few times in his fingers. Similar to how he twirled his wand. "I'd advise you to be careful to who you speak to at the ball, some families are better at spotting a pretender than others." He handed her something and Delilah took it without really paying attention. Her eyes wouldn't leave the way his lips moved as he spoke. Tom turned away and began to cut through the trees again, back the way they came. 

Delilah only looked down as something sharp pricked her hand. Her hiss turned into a gasp as she realized she was holding a white rose. And the thorns had cut into her palm, the blood pooling and running down her arm. The sting was quickly forgotten as she stared at it wide eyed.

Tom Riddle had given her a flower. 

She was at a loss for words. Why on earth would he give her such a thing? The gesture was surely beyond him. And he wasn't acknowledging it. There he was, five feet in front of her, just walking. Not saying a word.

Nearly ten minutes passed of silence before she cleared her throat. "You know, I might've forgotten to mention a...small fact about the Deathly Hallows." Tom stopped in his tracks and she felt herself smiling. That definitely got his attention. He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. His eyes glanced at the streaks of crimson running down her arm and sighed. 

Must she really be so careless? 

He walked forward and watched the way she took a sharp intake of breath as he held her arm. She really should get better at hiding her emotions. Wearing them on her sleeve will get her nowhere. "Meaning?" He asked, taking out his wand and running it over her forearm, cleaning away the blood and closing the cuts in her palm. 

Delilah gulped, doing her best to wet her dry mouth. Must he stand so close? 

"I might've left out what it meant if one were to come into possession of all three hallows." She didn't allow herself to wince as his grip on her arm grew tighter. "Pontmercy," He said slowly, raising a hand to grip her chin. He tilted her head up so she was forced to look at him. His eyes had gone dark again. 

"Tell me." 

Delilah never would get used to the way his voice made her feel. The temperature around them seemed to drop, yet rise all at once. Her skin felt on fire, but it was also as if she’d been dunked into ice cold water. And Merlin had his voice really dropped a few octaves? How is that even possible? 

She tried to wedge away from his grip, but he wasn't letting her go anytime soon. She could almost feel her pulse underneath his hand. "Tom you're hurting me." He blinked once, his hold only loosening slightly.

Why was she such an idiot? She should've kept her mouth shut, there was a reason she didn't tell him in the first place. Yet, look at her. A gesture as simple as giving her a rose made Delilah open her stupid mouth. 

She took a deep breath, her eyes dancing around the meadow and the sky above them. Anything to give her a distraction from the beautifully intimidating boy in front of her. "The one who masters all three hallows... becomes the Master of Death." 

A fire seemed to erupt behind his eyes. Tom's entire demeanor changed, his jaw strained, his eyes became black pools, he seemed to tower over her. The dark aura he usually kept at bay had been unleashed, the monster that it was pressed down on Delilah at all sides. Nearly suffocating her, every breath felt heavy and it was like she was drowning. The air around them became charged with magic and she could faintly hear it cracking. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her legs went weak. But he was still holding onto her, his grip like an anchor. He hadn't moved an inch. 

He looked hungry. 

"What do you mean, 'master'?" Tom spoke lowly and watched as her teeth gritted, trying to wrench her arm free. 

"Let go of me." Delilah yanked back, and at just the right time, Tom let go. Sending her to the ground rather painfully and she let out a hiss at the log she hit. "What is your problem?" She gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes as she held her arm, the one he'd healed yet harmed straight after. Did he really have such loose control over his temper? 

Despite her best efforts, Delilah flinched back as Tom knelt down to be at eye level. She felt something dark and heavy crawl up her neck, as if an invisible hand was caressing it and gradually adding pressure. But his hands remained clasped in front of him. 

Still, she wouldn't put it past Tom, he was well versed in wandless magic. 

What happened next sent a rage of fear prickling up her back. He was staring intently at her, and Delilah couldn't pull her eyes away from the dark depths. And when that long forgotten, yet familiar, prick to her mind was felt, she scrambled back. Tripping over the log in the process, landing uncomfortably on her back. 

He was trying to read her mind. Why in the name of Merlin was he trying to do that? Her breathing grew rapid, on the near verge of hyperventilating, and she tried her best to clear her thoughts. 

"If you just tell me, this will be a whole lot easier. And much more pleasant, I assure you." Tom tsk-d, looking down at her with a peculiar glint. Why was she so scared? He could nearly see her pulse beating rapidly in her neck. 

"I don't know how you master them." It wasn't a complete lie. Delilah was sure all you had to do was own the invisibility cloak, and in this timeline Harry's grandfather would have it. And legend says you have to win the Elder Wand, which she didn't fully understand. 

But the resurrection stone, well, she hadn't the faintest idea where it was or how one 'mastered' it. She just knew what Harry and Hermione told her. Which frankly, wasn't much. 

"Lying will get you nowhere." He sighed a bit in annoyance, he wasn't expecting her Occlumency to be this stable. Still, due to her current state her defenses weren't at their full potential. Tom began to stalk forward, and as a result, Delilah scrambled back. Cutting her elbows and palms along the way. 

No, she mustn’t allow him in. She couldn’t. She promised Dumbledore. What if he saw something that would ruin everything? 

There was a sudden, sharp pain to her skull and she let out a scream of agitation and fear, not so much of agony. She’s lived through worse. 

 

_____________________________________

 

_Draco shoved her through the door, snickering at the annoyed look on her features. "Malfoy you fucking wanker!" Delilah shouted as the door slammed shut._

_The pink in the room was nearly blinding. She usually didn't mind the color, but the excessive amount decorating the office was sickening. There was a slight giggle and she whirled around._

_"Language my dearie, a girl such as yourself shouldn't dream to use such foul words." Umbridge sat in her chair looking like a bloated toad, mixing her tea slowly. The notion would've been intimidating if it weren't for the countless portraits of cats on plates littering the walls._

_Delilah hasn't ever hated a teacher so deeply, not even Snape. Which was saying something. She had gotten a detention for back talking Umbridge. Saying she didn't deserve her respect blindly._

_"Sit down." She gestured to the small desk placed next to her own. There was a blank piece of parchment and a long, pointed crimson quill._

_Delilah mentally groaned once she realized she would have to do lines. Still, she was expecting worse. Filch usually made her clean the trophy cases till well around two in the morning._

_"What will I be writing?" She asked, gazing out the window with a slight sigh. The weather had finally warmed and all she wanted to do was lay out in the grass._

_"This is deserved." She said cheerfully,followed by her oh so annoying giggle. Umbridge stood up from her desk and made a point to stand in front of the window, effectively cutting off Delilah's view. "You haven't given me any ink." She bit, and the woman merely sighed. "You won't be needing any."_

_"How many times?" Delilah asked, placing the quill to the paper, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. "I believe you'll know when it's enough."_

_With an annoyed tick of her jaw, Delilah began to write. After a few seconds there was a sharp sting to her left hand. She paused and flexed her fingers, not thinking much of it before continuing. As she finished the sentence, she knew something was wrong, the ink was crimson._

_With a slight hiss, she looked at the top of her left hand and saw the skin had grown red and irritated, and carved into her flesh were the words, 'This is Deserved', in her hand writing. Delilah's eyes slightly widened and she looked up at Umbridge in mild disbelief._

_This surely wasn't legal._

_"Problem?" She hummed, a pleasant smile on her lips. Delilah set her jaw and shook her head. "None at all."_

_And she kept writing, clenching her fist and ignoring the blood starting to poor from her deepening wound._

_She'd be damned before she gave Umbridge the satisfaction of giving in._

 

______________________________________

 

Tom pulled back from the memory with furrowed brows. Delilah laid on the ground, slightly panting and muttering the word "no" over and over again. An absent minded plea for him to stop. He tilted his head to get a better look at her hands and yes- there it was. The scar was faint, but definitely there. 

'This is Deserved' with forevermark her skin, and he felt a tick of disdain towards that Umbridge woman. 

“Malfoy?” He muttered to himself. He didn’t recognize the boy in her memory. But he looked remarkably similar to Abraxas. Perhaps a cousin he didn’t know about? He’d ask later. 

As intriguing as that memory was, it wasn't what he was looking for. 

Delilah was slightly sweating, her chest heaving. It was shame it had to be this way, but it wasn't his fault she was stubborn. 

She screamed again when he dove back in, but this time she was slightly more prepared and threw up a defense. Only allowing Tom a glance of a memory. 

But as bad luck would have it, it was something slightly useful. 

It was one Christmas at Grimmauld Place, and Harry took out his invisibility cloak, throwing it over his shoulders. 

Tom stepped back, a sinister smile on his face as he fixed his tie. Yes, that's what he needed. He now knew two things. One, what the cloak looked like. And two, it belonged to this Harry fellow. He racked his brain to see if Delilah ever told him the boys last name but came up short. 

He'd have to wait another day for that. 

Now he had a bigger problem to deal with, and that was the nearly unconscious blonde at his feet. Delilah was surely livid at him, she barely trusted him enough as is, and this definitely ruined whatever amount she had left in him.

Delilah looked up at him through heavy eyes, rage coursing through every vein in her body. She couldn't believe him. That he'd really invade her privacy in such a way, and so forcefully. 

Evil was always spectacular and human. 

Delilah was finally willing to let herself see that now. 

A beat hit in her chest then, and she couldn't breathe, her hands flew up and clawed at her neck and a silent scream pulled itself from her lips. Her eyes were wide and watering, her chest suddenly convulsing. 

Tom stared down at her slightly wide eyed, not expecting such a sudden change to what her body was doing. He's never seen a reaction as severe as this to Legilimency before. She was sweating more profusely and he kneeled down at her side, brushing the hair away from her face. 

Her eyes went crystalline and were staring straight ahead, but not seeing. Now he knew something was definitely wrong. "Delilah can you hear me?" He brought out his wand and attempted to run a health diagnostic but nothing was coming up, only that her heart was beating dangerously fast. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He muttered, as well as a few other curses. 

Delilah then threw her body forward and started coughing so violently, Tom was worried she'd eventually throw up her lungs. He brushed her hair back from her face and felt a chill run through his hands at how cold she was. He felt a weight fall on his shoulders as he looked at the ground beneath Delilah. 

It was blood. 

"Delilah?" He said slowly, a hint of worry to his tone, which was new for him. He never worried. Tom leaned forward to finally look at her face, and he felt the blood in his cheeks vanish. 

Blood was pooling from her mouth, nose, and it was in her eyes too.

“Merlin.” He breathed before getting quickly up to his feet, cradling her to his chest like a babe. She had stopped coughing, but the blood was still running down the sides of her mouth, nose, and eyes. 

Typically a sight like this wouldn’t disturb him. He’s seen his fair share of gruesome scenes. But there was something unnerving about Delilah being in such a state, it disturbed him. 

As he quickly ran through the woods, he mentally debated on whether or not to apparate back to the manor. It would by far be quicker, but he didn’t think it would help Delilah’s current health state. 

Her body weight was slowing him down, and with a few string of curses he summoned a stretcher and gently set her down. He then waved his wand and made a direct, clear path. Making sure she was secure, Tom took off in a careful sprint and the stretcher followed him. 

When he finally made it back to the manor, he busted through the kitchens entrance. The house elves gasped at the sudden entrance, staring wide eyed at the teen boy and horrid looking girl. With a wave of his hand, Tom cleared a table and set her down gently. 

For once, he had no idea what to do. He couldn’t fix whatever was happening to her, and that frustrated him beyond belief. 

Delilah began to choke on the blood pooling in her mouth and rolled over, spitting it out on the table. “Tom.” She gasped, her anger at him completely forgotten for the moment. The pain tearing through her body was nearly blinding. 

He placed two hands on her cheeks, her skin feeling like a sheet of ice. He muttered a small spell that sent warmth into his hands, trying his best to direct it into her. She grasped at his hands, holding them tightly, desperate for the warmth. 

“Tom,” she gasped again. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, and she was having trouble seeing him. Everything looked red. 

Tom stared at her, Delilah’s eyes looked shockingly blue now that the whites were tinged with blood. “I’m here Delilah,” he began, but stopped short. Again, he had no idea what to do. 

“Get Dumbledore.” And with those two words, she passed out. 

 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spacing on this is really weird and I apologize!!

Hatred of Dumbledore so deeply embedded in him struck like a chord, making his bones appear to vibrate. Of all people, she had to ask for Dumbledore. Tom supposed, though unwillingly, that the old man was their best opportunity to get sufficient care. Nonetheless, his teeth gritted at the thought of having that man in his presence.

 

Delilah started convulsing, her back arching before slamming into the table again. Quite effectively snapping Tom out of his brooding.

 

"You," his voice was severe and the elf he was pointing at, Gilroy, flinched. "Yes, sir Riddle?" The elf said, voice quivering and his eyes bulged at the sight of blood everywhere. "Send for Dumbledore immediately, and tell him to bring Madame Fontaine."

 

With a nod and a crack, Gilroy was gone.

 

Tom turned back to Delilah, who lay limp and pale on the copper table. There were crimson streaks of blood leaving red tears from her eyes. In some cynical way, Tom supposed this was the first time he saw her cry. And hopefully the last. The picture didn't sit right in his mind. Delilah wasn't one to succumb to such weakness, and a small part of himself thought that was quite admirable. Though he'd never tell her that, she'd be too smug for her own good.

 

The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, the small sound felt deafening however. Taunting him, making his nerves feel scrambled and his head feel heavy. The irrational part of his mind made Delilah appear to get worse with every tick, and finally his body acted on impulse. Tom whirled around and fired a reducto at the offending clock, elves screeching as wood splinters flew everywhere. "Where the bloody hell is he." Tom bit, glaring at the fireplace.

 

Her teeth chattered and were stained a deep red, she tried speaking, but found her vocal chords to be too weak. She kept trying and nearly started to cough again. There was a twitch to Tom's cheek as she had to roll over again to spit out blood. "Is he- Dumbl-" she stuttered, trying to sit up, but Tom gently pushed her down.

 

"Hush now, don't be an idiot." He muttered, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. Bringing out his wand, he wet it with cold water and took to wiping off the blood the best he could. The bleeding seemed to stop, and over all, she looked hauntingly debilitated. He left her eyes be, though he thought leaving the blood wasn't the best idea. He didn't know how to properly go about cleaning them.

 

Delilah was twitching every now and then, and felt like she was on fire yet cold all at once. She felt drained. Her senses started to leave her and she looked around with a new urgency, trying to recollect how she ended up in such a state. But her memory was slipping by the second.

 

"Hey, calm down." She started to hyperventilate, her breaths constricted by the tightness of her dress. Tom clenched his jaw, telling himself to just leave it, but lately he's found himself ignoring the more sound part of his mind. He took to the front laces which mended up her dress tightly and felt Delilah shiver as she felt the strings being tugged, but didn't protest.

 

Hooking his fingers on the last few ties, he loosened her outer dress. Really, why women wore such dreaded and constrictive clothing baffled him. How at all was this type of wear convenient? When it was finally undone, he grabbed her hands and pulled her up into a sitting position and took to standing between her legs. Her undergarments were on show but he ignored the sight, keeping his eyes trained on her face. "Open your mouth," he directed curtly. He wasn't sure she heard him, but a few seconds later she dropped her mouth ajar.

 

He poured some water in her mouth and told her to rinse and spit into a bowl he grabbed. Blood tinted water came from her mouth and she was still breathing shallowly. Her skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and he was sure her carbon dioxide levels in her body were dangerously high, he needed to slow her breathing rate.

 

"Purse your lips," Tom mimicked what he wanted her to do with his own, his face but mere inches from hers. Delilah eyed his mouth before doing as told. He then raised his hands to cup the front of his mouth, "now do this and breath through your lips." Her hands shook as she raised them, the sight causing her even more stress. "No Delilah, slowly. Breath into your stomach rather than your chest." He placed a warm hand to where her diaphragm was, the skin to skin contact making a sudden calm wash over her.

 

"Hold your breath ten seconds between each, I'll count, okay?" He was walking her through the breathing exercise slowly, adding slight pressure to her stomach with each pause. Their eyes were locked onto one another as she took in a shuddering breath, and holding it as he counted to ten. They repeated this cycle until her breathing calmed and he lied her back down.

 

Tom looked her over, wondering what the hell happened. Did he do this? He couldn't see how, a reaction to legilimency like hers has never been heard of. This was something else entirely. How long had she been ill? He noticed she'd been coughing the past week, and for as long as he's known her, she's always been cold to the touch.

 

Almost like a statue.

 

Leaning over the table, he placed his hands on both her cheeks, mentally reciting a blood replenishing charm over and over again. It was the most he could offer at the moment. Tom nearly flinched when he felt her cool hands cover his own, gripping onto them the best she could, though her muscles felt incredibly weak.

 

She was staring at him, wide eyed and it felt like she was digging into the very depths of his mind. She wasn't reading him, he knew that, but her gaze was unwavering. He had to admit, it was a bit unsettling. The feeling that was taking hold of his body was similar to the way one felt when a ghost passed through.

 

It was like someone covered him in a veil of dread.

 

The door suddenly creaked open, but Tom was too focused on the blue eyes looking at him.

 

Aleksander walked in, his mind set on a late evening snack when he froze at the sight in front of him. Delilah laid on the table, blood staining her clothing, which were undone, and Tom's clothes were covered as well. She looked on the brink of death. His eyes were wide and panic shot through him.

 

"What've you done to her!" He shouted, pulling Tom out of his thoughts. He turned just in time to see Aleksander running at him.

 

Really?

 

With an annoyed sigh and a lazy wave of his hand, Tom sent the boy flying, his back hitting painfully against the cast iron stove. He watched as Aleksander groaned in pain, but he noticed something else. Something peculiar.

 

Tom realized the boy looked not only scared, but terrified as indicated by the boys wide eyes and shrunken pupils. Not to mention the sudden heavy breathing. And he hadn't the faintest idea why. No, it wasn't him worrying for Delilah's well being. This was a fear rooted in something else entirely.

 

He only knew this because he saw that look in his followers' eyes.

 

The fireplace at the far end of the kitchen went ablaze and out stepped Dumbledore, quickly followed by Madame Fontaine. Whom whimpered a bit at the sight of Delilah. Tom assumed she was probably a bit tired of seeing Delilah fall so ill again. He wanted to hex them, maybe even yell at them if he was to be so brash. What the hell took them so long?

 

Dumbledore rushed over, his eyes not wavering from the girl on the table, but his words were directed at Tom. "What happened?" Tom felt himself raise an eyebrow at the slight frantic tone in the professor's voice. Of course he'd have concern for one of his students, but the glint in Dumbledore's usually twinkling eyes was dark.

 

"I don't know, sir." His voice was smooth and a bit quiet, and for maybe the first time, Dumbledore believed him.

 

Tom's curiosity had been spiked yet again. Now that he allowed himself to think about it, why was Delilah so urgent for Dumbledore? He's never seen the man so interested in a student, well maybe besides himself. But even he didn't have weekly meetings with the man. Yes, Tom knew of those. It was almost laughable to see Delilah thinking she was being discreet. There was an insatiable itch to know what they talked about, because quite a few times has Delilah left his office either; fuming, annoyed, or slightly depressed. But trying to listen in would've been fruitless, Dumbledore had a series of spells to ensure privacy on his office.

 

The headmaster's eyes watched the two as he stepped back, letting Madame Fontaine begin running diagnostics. Tom knew she wouldn't find much, seeing as he tried the same thing about three times.

 

Dumbledore followed the sudden movement Delilah made, her hand was reaching out. She clutched Tom's hand, seeking as much warmth as she could. Seeking familiarity. He noticed how Tom didn't pull away.

 

Whether or not the notion was strictly pretense, Dumbledore supposed sometimes even the darkest of souls are drawn to the light.

 

He just hoped Tom Riddle was there to stay.

 

______________________________________

 

"What do you think happened?" Aleksander was leaning against the wall opposite of her bed, his eyes trained on the sleeping girl. Elio shifted a bit in his chair, which he conjured and sat next to the bed, lightly running his fingers through her hair. "I don't know."

 

There was a beat of silence, the clock on the mantle ticking away, making everyone feel nervous. "You don't suppose Riddle did something?" At his words, Elio tensed but shook his head. He didn't want to think of that being a possibility. Besides, Tom wouldn't be so careless. And he knew he was an excellent liar, but Elio didn't miss the way Tom's eyes were set.

 

For the first time, Elio witnessed Tom Riddle confused.

 

He was a bit annoyed no one came to get him straight away. By the time he was informed, Delilah was passed out on the table and Dumbledore was talking in hushed whispers to Madame Fontaine. She wanted Delilah to go to St. Mungo's, but by the looks of it, Dumbledore was refusing.

 

"He couldn't have." He finally said, not being able to take his gaze off Delilah. His eyes trailed along her features, counting each faded freckle on her cheeks. Part of himself was annoyed at her, or he guessed at himself. Delilah never seemed to tell him if she was in trouble, yet Tom always seemed to be at her side when she was.

 

Why won't she let him in? Why was she holding back?

 

His memory wandered to the night before, that wonderful and blissful night. In a way she did give herself to him, at least a small part. But she was still closed off considerably. Elio looked at his sleeping girlfriend in immense worry and fascination. Sure, she talked about her friends and family, but she never talked about her life before Hogwarts.

 

And after last night, he was beyond curious.

 

Because when she took off her blouse, and his hands trailed down her back. She froze, and he felt uneven skin, he felt scar tissue covering her entire back, from the base of her neck down to her tailbone. There wasn't an inch of smooth skin. He met her eyes then, and the look in them told him not to ask. So he didn't, and he kept his hands away from her back. But later that night, when she finally drifted off into sleep next to him, her back was to him and he finally saw. Elio couldn't even imagine the pain those wounds must've caused.

 

He couldn't help but wonder what happened to her. But he knew she'd tell him in her own time, or maybe never at all.

 

"But don't you think he's capable?" Aleksander asked, he was biting the inside of his thumb. Elio turned to look at him and analyzed how his foot was tapping. "What's that supposed to mean?" He eyed the boy warily, he didn't know the full extent of his relationship with Tom. But Elio did know the two weren't fond of each other.

 

Aleksander rolled his eyes and pushed off the wall, walking over to lean his hands on the footboard of the bed. "You know well what I mean, he's a diavol. Don't you find it curious he was the only one with her when she started to bleed everywhere? And they weren't in the manor. They were alone, and he doesn't know what happened? And did you see the state of her clothes?" With his anger slightly rising, Aleksander's Romanian accent became thicker as he spoke.

 

Elio shook his head, annoyance at the boy growing by the second. Tom didn't hurt Delilah, he refused to even consider it. Because if he did, he'd probably do something ridiculously brash and get himself killed by attacking Tom. Elio knew he wasn't a match for him, Tom was exceedingly gifted at magic, not to mention terrifying if he let himself go. He involuntarily shivered at the memory of himself thrashing on the floor, screaming in pain as Tom stood above him, blank faced.

 

He wasn't in the particular mood to have the cruciatus curse cast on him again. It was a dreadful punishment if Tom felt their loyalty wavering. "Mate, do me a favor and fuck off, yeah?"

 

"Boys!" Lolita hissed quietly, snapping the two out of it. They'd forgotten she was even in the room. "Either shut up or take this outside, she needs to rest." She glared at the two with a surprising amount of authority behind her eyes, and Aleksander begrudgingly left the room.

 

With an annoyed sigh, Lolita conjured her own chair and sat herself down next to Elio. She eyed him a moment before clearing her throat, "You don't think Riddle would've done this, do you?"

 

He shrugged and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, it was well around six in the morning. "Honestly, Lita? I've no idea. But if he did, I'll kill him." And she believed him.

 

There was a groan from the bed and the two snapped their heads in her direction. "Love, you need anything?" Elio said quietly, not entirely sure if she had a headache or not. He wouldn't doubt it. He brushed her hair back and watched as her eyes flickered open.

 

"Where?" She said confused, sitting up quickly and looking around the room. "Elio? Lita?" She then quickly looked at her hand, but frowned. How'd she get to her room? The last thing she remembered was Tom giving her that rose. Delilah then looked around the room, and felt annoyed at herself at the disappointment she was feeling that a certain boy wasn't there.

 

"You okay?" Lolita asked, eyeing her friend in worry. "Yeah, I'm fine, just-" she took a breath and looked at the clock. It was the morning of Christmas Eve, the ball was tonight. "I'm just tired." And she was, she felt exhausted. But she had to admit she was a bit excited for tonight.

 

"What happened?" Delilah looked at herself in slight confusion, she was wearing pajamas. How'd she get back to the manor without remembering? And more importantly, who changed her?

 

Elio and Lolita looked at each other with an eyebrow raised, but said nothing. Because they hadn't the faintest idea either. Telling the girl she was bleeding from her eyes and mouth didn't seem like the best idea at the moment.

 

"Food poisoning." Lolita blurted and Elio gave her an incredulous look. She shrugged, gesturing it was the first thing that came to mind. He nodded and turned to Delilah, "Yeah, it was dreadful. You said you felt sick to your stomach and ended up passing out, dreadful side effects."

 

"Oh." Delilah scratched her head, trying to recollect what happened the previous evening, but came up blank. She then smiled widely and grabbed Lolita's hands, her friend grinning warily. "Can you do my hair tonight? I actually want to look presentable for once."

 

Lolita nodded, suppressing a shiver at the girls touch. Was she always this cold? "Are you sure you're well enough for the ball tonight?" Elio asked, which earned him a frown. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

 

And again, the two friends shared a glance.

 

"Well, I've some exciting news!" Lolita said quickly, urging for a change in conversation. She wasn't planning on telling her like this, but better now, she supposed. Delilah raised a brow at the sudden shift.

 

"Cain and I are to be married this summer!"

 

She felt her eyes bulge at her friends words, nearly forgetting such things were normal in this time period. "He proposed yesterday." Lolita held out her hand and a wide, giddy smile was on her lips. "It's gorgeous." Delilah said, the ring was also massive. "Congratulations!" She pulled Lolita into a hug and her eyes flickered to Elio for a split second. Were people awaiting them to get married?

 

Thought made something in her stomach drop uncomfortably.

 

_____________________________________

 

Lolita finished styling her hair, hovering over Delilah's shoulder and their eyes met in the mirror. "You look beautiful." She gave her a smile and reached up to squeeze Lolita's hand. "Thank you."

 

Olive was standing at another mirror fixing her lipstick and Aurora was fastening her own hair into an updo. Delilah looked at them all and remembered her fourth year when she was getting ready for Yule Ball with Cho and Luna. Her heart ached at the memory.

 

"I can't wait to see your dress, Pyrrhus wouldn't shut up about how great his skills were." Aurora mused, pulling out her own dress and began to change. It was a lovely neutral beige color with a gold shimmer running along the train, complimenting her dark skin beautifully.

 

"Yes, but he wouldn't tell us what it looked like." Olive chimed, she seemed to be a in good mood lately. Albeit Delilah hasn't really talked to her much. There was a knock on the door, and before anyone told the person to come in, the door opened. It was Rosie, and she held a bright smile as she sauntered into the room.

 

She herself was dressed in an adorable gown, the light purple fabric shimmering as she moved. "Hello, little one. Where've you been?" Delilah asked, huffing a bit as the young girl hugged her. "I have a dumb tutor, even though it's the holidays!" Rosie had an aghast look on her features that Delilah couldn't help but smile at. "Where's your dress? You're going to be late, some of the guests are already in the hall."

 

Rosie took Delilah's hand and began to drag her to the wardrobe where her dress hung. She looked over her shoulder and met the amused glances of her friends. "Rosie don't break the poor girls wrist," Lolita mused, grinning at her soon to be little sister in-law.

 

Delilah grabbed her dress, which was in a gown bag and went to walk towards the bathroom to change. She was a bit nervous to be honest, the gown was by far the most expensive thing she's probably ever worn. She'd also had it tailored so it covered up her back sufficiently, that did ease some of her stress.

 

The corset was a bit difficult to manage when trying to tie the back of it with only a mirror for help, but Delilah tightened the laces with her wand and let out a breath. Beauty is pain, she thought bitterly. Still, as she looked at herself she couldn't help but grin. She felt like a princess.

 

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Delilah was met with a few gasps and she shifted on her feet. "Is it bad?" Aurora shook her head, eyeing the girl head to toe. "Pyrrhus outdid himself."

 

______________________________________

 

Tom was lounged in a chair, lazily flipping through a book while the boys either fussed over their hair or their suits. Pyrrhus was changing his shoes for the third time, not being able to decide which leather would go best with the rest of his outfit.

 

His eyes glanced up at Elio, who was fidgeting with his tie. He'd been tense ever since last night, which was a bit annoying but he supposed it was reasonable. His girlfriend nearly died and he wasn't there to protect her.

 

Despite himself, Tom's lips quirked a bit.

 

He was there, he always was.

 

It must burn Elio to know he's never her first choice. With the shake of his head, Tom stood and fixed his cuff links, smoothing out his all black suit.

 

Just then Abraxas walked in, a slight annoyed look to his features. "My mum nearly saw me." He grunted, shutting the door behind him with a kick.

 

None of the boys were looking forward to seeing their parents.

 

"Has the Minister arrived?" Cain asked as he tucked his shirt in before absentmindedly fiddling with his new engagement ring. A smile graced his lips at the touch of it. Abraxas laughed dryly and shook his head, "of course not, he'll probably show up an hour late with some grand entrance and have a fascinating tale to tell everyone."

 

Tom spared a look in the mirror and smoothed his hair back, "well gentlemen, you know what your jobs are tonight." He settled them all with a glance and walked out the door.

 

"I hope he trips tonight." Elio muttered as soon as he was sure Tom was out of earshot. Pyrrhus chuckled and ruffled his friends hair, "Tom Riddle never trips, he gracefully staggers." Elio smacked Pyrrhus' arm away and gave him a mocking laugh.

 

"Who is he expecting to know about the Deathly Hallows? If he didn't even know about it, how is some low life Ministry official?" Cain pocketed his wand before he walked out the door, the rest following. Elio shrugged, not really caring about Tom's plans for tonight. Sure he'd ask around, but other than that he was determined to have a decent time tonight. "Just get them drunk enough and see what happens." Pyrrhus patted Cain and Abraxas on the back before trotting off down the stairs.

 

He was probably the most party going of the group, always up for a dance and a drink.

 

"Poor bloke is going to get shit-faced." Elio said with a grin on his lips. Drunk Pyrrhus never ceased to be a source of entertainment. "Let's hope all of us do." Cain muttered with a sigh as he saw his mother beckoning him over. As he walked towards her, he grabbed a glass of champagne off a waiter and downed it quickly before putting it back.

 

"There you are," a voice said gruffly and they whirled around. Olive was making her way down to the foot of the main staircase, holding up her dress so she didn't fall. "Where the hell is Pyrrhus?" Even with her heels on the girl still couldn't see over the crowd. "Most likely at the bar." Abraxas mused, covering up at laugh with a cough due to the annoyed look in her eyes. "Figures." Before Olive could leave, he caught her arm. "Will Aurora be down soon?"

 

She was about to reply but her eyes landed on something behind Abraxas. "Take a look for yourself," she nodded to the stop of the staircase and the boys turned. Both their jaws went slack as they watched their two girls walk down like the queens they considered them to be.

 

They looked beautiful.

 

Aurora had a bashful smile on her lips as she caught sight of the glimmer in her lovers eyes. Meanwhile Delilah was trying her best to not let her heels slip on the marble stairs. Really, they could've at least rolled out a carpet.

 

Elio was caught in a moment of breathless delight. The noise from the ballroom behind him faded, and the chandelier hanging high above seemed to only exist to cast a golden light on Delilah.

 

The dress fit snugly at the top in crimson silk with lace designs of lily of the valley crawling over her shoulders and up her neck. And at the waist, an explosion of shimmering red fabric broke from the snug top and cascaded to the floor. Glints of silver sparkled as she moved. The deep red contrasted beautifully with her skin tone and golden hair, her lips were also painted the same shade.

 

She reached the bottom, a sheepish smile on her face and a blush to her cheeks at the way he was looking at her. "Darling, you're stunning." He took her hand and spun her around. The back was just as beautiful. The dresses back was exposed, but the same intricate lace covered her back like a second skin.

 

Elio rummaged in his pocket and felt Delilah shiver slightly at he touched her neck lightly. She felt the coolness of metal greet her neck and her eyes widened as she looked down. Elio placed a light kiss to the back of her neck after he clasped the necklace and spun her back around.

 

Delilah held up the necklace and bit her lip, it was an eagle with its wings spread and three roses lined down its back. "Elio it's gorgeous, you didn't have to." He wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Consider it an early Christmas gift." She smiled up at him and took the arm he offered. "Shall we?"

 

She sighed and looked at the massive crowd awaiting them. This Yule Ball would definitely be much more different than the one in her fourth year. "Now or never."

 

____________________________________

 

The Regency Dance went well, in her opinion. She kept catching Andonis' judgemental gaze throughout the whole thing, but other than that she didn't trip up. Delilah and Elio were now dancing at a more casual pace, talking about random things.

 

He let out a sigh and his eyes searched the crowd for probably the fourth time. "What's the matter?" Delilah tried to follow his gaze but he turned to look at her. He looked annoyed. "Riddle wants me to ask around for a research thing he's working on," he wasn't sure how to properly word it. Let alone if he should even be telling her. But this was Delilah, he'd tell her anything and quite frankly he wasn't a big fan of Tom's lately.

 

Raising a brow, Delilah absentmindedly messed with her new necklace. "Is this about the Deathly Hallows?" Elio looked down at her confused and slightly surprised, his eyes narrowed in question. "He told you?" Why on earth would he tell Delilah? Tom barely even told them anything.

 

Delilah laughed a bit and shook her head. "I'm the one who told him about it." Her brows furrowed at his sudden shift in aura, he seemed tense. His mouth opened to reply but he was cut off as a young girl walked forward. She must've been one of Cain's cousins. "Would you like to dance?" She asked him with a smile. Elio was about to decline but Delilah pulled away from him. "Don't let me keep you from socializing."

 

"Del-"

 

"I see Cain, I'll be just over there if you need me." She have him a small smile and turned her back, the metal on her necklace feeling so cold it nearly burned.

 

Maneuvering her way through the crowd, she found Cain sitting at one of the tables, a glass of fire whiskey in hand. Before she reached him however, someone gripped her hands and began to spin her around quickly. Delilah laughed at the blurry sight of Pyrrhus in front of her, his own lips in a grin. They stopped spinning, completely oblivious to the looks of annoyance from other guests. Pyrrhus let out a sigh as he looked her up and down, practically u dressing her with his eyes. “My love, you look ravishing.”

 

She raised a brow, giving him the silent question she thought she wasn’t his preferred sexual orientation. Pyrrhus have her a wink and leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek. “I dabble.” As he pulled back he grabbed a champagne glass and downed it. “I’ll see you later.” And he was off, probably to flirt with half the attendees.

 

Delilah neared Cain and he gave her a grin, gesturing for her to sit, which she took gladly to. There was a beat of silence and Delilah felt his eyes on her, causing her to shift in her seat. "What?" She finally said, not liking the silence or the sudden smugness to his features. A waiter walked back and she grabbed a glass, not caring what was in it.

 

"Your relationship with him is fascinating." Cain said conversationally. "I mean I suppose, Elio-"

 

He shook his head. "I meant your relationship with Riddle." Delilah nearly choked on the champagne she was indulging on. "There's no 'relationship' between Riddle and I." He shook his head with a light laugh, eyes wandering over the large mass of people. He hated these parties, they were exhausting. He caught sight of Lolita having a chat with an auror and raised a hand, giving her a wink as well.

 

"It's not your fault you're attracted to him. Everyone is, in some way. He's alluring. But you're different." Delilah shook her head, the action was barely perceptible. "I'm really not." She muttered into the thin glass. "No, but you are. You actually stopped and looked. You asked 'why?' when everyone else is afraid to. And that is what caught his attention. You have enraptured Riddle, and neither of you have noticed. Nietzsche once said, when you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you."

 

Delilah raised a brow, Cain was being rather philosophical tonight. She was also surprised he even knew who Nietzsche was. "Meaning?" She asked and he rolled his eyes. "Meaning," he began. "Riddle is the abyss. You took interest in him, genuine interest. And he latched onto you in return. He finds you an enigma in the form of a five foot two blonde who wears a skirt that's just little bit too short."

 

Delilah snorted and lightly smacked Cain's chest. There was no way in hell Tom ever paid the remotest attention to what she wore. He was too busy scheming world domination or something of the sort.

 

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Cain sighed and downed the rest of his drink. Delilah turned and saw Tom approaching, and despite her efforts a blush rose to her cheeks and she eyed him over appreciatively. His suit fit him wonderfully.

 

He stopped right in front of her, smelling of burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes. She found herself breathing in more intentionally. He gave a curt nod to Cain, who returned it with a slight raise of his empty glass. Tom turned his gaze back to Delilah, slightly surprised she wasn't glaring daggers at him.

 

"Do you want to dance?" A waltz was about to be played and she bit her lip, trying her best to ignore the hidden smile on Cain's lips. "If I'm asked properly."

 

He didn't ask, Tom simply held out an arm with a brow raised. Delilah sighed and downed her drink before taking his arm. Really, her lack of will power was a bit pathetic.

 

They barley danced for a minute before Delilah pinched his arm a bit harshly. He narrowed his eyes at her, "do you have a problem you wish to yell at me for," Tom said flatly, guiding her around the other couples. She was doing her best to ignore the feel of his hand on her back through the lace. Delilah set her jaw and looked up at him, "you could've at least come by to see if I was okay."

 

He looked at her curiously then and noticed the necklace on her neck. Tom bit at his cheek at the three roses, a symbol he was familiar with. Those three roses belonged on the Rosier family crest. That pettier part of himself wanted to hit Elio. It was the boys subtle way of marking her as his.

 

"I wasn't expecting you'd want me to visit." He said slowly, trying to gauge her expression. Was she messing with him? Delilah pinched his arm again and he took to slapping her hand away half heartedly. "Of course I would." Her cheeks felt on fire and she turned her gaze away from him pointedly. That was a stupid thing to admit. She supposed she should probably keep away from anymore alcohol or else much more stupid and dangerous things could be tumbling from her mouth.

 

Deciding it was time to change the topic of discussion, Delilah cleared her throat and tried to calm her beating heart. They were so close. "Christmas am I right?" She inwardly cringed, no that definitely made everything worse. The amusement in his eyes wasn't helping either. "I remember when I was little I was baffled by how Father Christmas could've possibly delivered all those presents in one night."

 

Tom shrugged, "quite simple, magic obviously. Though why parents continue to let an old man into their home late at night is a bit questionable." Delilah snickered, "You talk about him as if he's real." Her smile grew as she watched the question in his eyes. "You're joking." She bit her lip as she looked at him. Tom Riddle believed in Santa. He had to be joking.

 

Not being able to help it, Delilah broke into a laugh. A genuine, deep in your stomach where it hurts laugh. It felt nice, she hadn't laughed like that in awhile. She threw a hand over her mouth and leaned her forehead on his shoulder.

 

He looked down at her, dark eyes glimmering.

 

From across the room, searching eyes fall on the two. Elio felt a sudden weight drop in his stomach. Delilah never looked at him like that.

 

Pyrrhus walked up beside his friend, staggering a bit and his brows furrowed at the sudden look of poorly veiled pain. He followed Elio's gaze and sighed. Pyrrhus patted him on the shoulder, offering him a drink that he just grabbed off a platter.

 

"I know how that feels, mate."

 

Elio shrugged off his arm and took the drink, letting the liquid burn down his throat. He told himself it was nothing. “Did you find anything?” He asked, not expecting a ‘yes’ seeing as Pyrrhus was swaying. But he nodded, a pleased smile on his lips. “Aleksander said I should talk to this one bloke and he actually had some interesting pointers. I think you should meet him.”

______________________________________

 

An hour or two goes by, if she's being honest she lost track. Currently they were walking through the stone garden again, the music from the ball dancing through the windows. The snow took on a blue tint due to the moonlight and the crunch from their footsteps carried about the air.

 

“I have a question.” He said suddenly, and she looked over a statue of a woman and her child. “Even if I say no, I know you’re going to ask anyway, so,” she waved her hand for him to continue. “Did you recognize any of Abraxas’ family members by chance?” He was trying to ask her about that boy he saw in her memory. She called him Malfoy and they were unmistakably related. But he’s spent much time with Abraxas’ family and he’s never seen him before.

 

“What do you mean?” Delilah spun the necklace around her fingers. Tom found the necklace offensive and he didn’t know why, he felt that familiar itch and lit a cigarette. “Do you know any of his family by chance?”

 

She shook her head, ignoring the sudden flash of Draco’s face in her mind. “Not that I know of, why?” Tom felt his jaw tick, she was lying.

 

Her eyes landed on her fallen angel and she smiled at Tom, "would you like a proper dance?" He raised a brow, his hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging from his lips. The orange glow from the tip casted his face in a haunting, yet alluring light.

 

"Not a waltz or anything," she clarified. She was freezing but part of it made her feel alive, the bite to her skin reminding her she was there, she was alive and real. And so was the boy in front of her. Even though she wouldn't be in this time forever, she could enjoy this moment if she allowed herself to.

 

He inhaled and let out a cloud of smoke which swirled in the cold air. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and gestured for her to go on. "Just close your eyes and move, lose yourself in it. Listen to the faint music or the wind, they aren't so different." At the blank look Tom was giving her she huffed. "Give up control, just this once."

 

Her hands were on her hips and she was looking at him expectantly and there was a hint of excitement. With a huff, Delilah threw up her hands. "Fine, I'll close my eyes first. I promise I won't open them." She closed her eyes and stood there for a moment. "Are they closed?"

 

Reluctantly, he closes his eyes.

 

"Yes they’re closed, now what?" He threw his cigarette to the ground and heard the hiss as the snow put out the light. "Just listen, if not to the music, at least listen to the way the snow crunches beneath your feet or your heart. Let your body be and feel the world around you."

 

He doesn't move but he can almost feel her in the space between them. Tom opened his eyes after a few seconds to find Delilah swaying about, her arms outstretched, her own eyes shut and a content smile on her lips.

 

He watched her movements carefully, he watched the way the end of her dress got soaked with snow. She seemed to be floating and with the paleness of her skin she looked like a ghost. Tom bit at his cheek as his eyes fell on her left hand. ’This is Deserved’ was barely visible but it seemed to be screaming at him. How could she not be livid at him? How had she even been able to look at him let alone dance with him? Perhaps she didn't fully remember, he wouldn't be surprised. But wouldn't Elio or one of the others have told her? Surely the notion that she was bleeding everywhere would've been concerning.

 

Tom was also surprised she was even attending the ball. When he saw her walk down the stairs he couldn't pull his eyes off her. Delilah looked well enough, but Madame Fontaine warned she should stay in bed for a day or two, she shouldn't over exert herself. The healer really wanted Delilah at St. Mungo's but Dumbledore was highly against. He recalled how he leaned back as she ran her test, arguing with the professor for nearly twenty minutes.

 

_______________________________

 

_"Albus she needs better care than a school nurse. I may be well versed, but I've never seen a condition such as hers." Madame Fontaine said with a frustrated sigh, glaring at Dumbledore with an incredulous sheen. The old man shook his head, staring down his crooked nose at the girl. "She can't go there, I'm sorry, but it's for reasons I'm not permitted to speak of." Of course he was worried for Delilah, and St. Mungo's would undoubtedly be safer. But they couldn't risk it. Delilah didn't have any proper records and if the hospital alerted the ministry, even for the smallest thing, everything could be ruined. There'd be no telling what they'd do to her._

_The Ministry and Dumbledore were already on rocky grounds due to Grindelwald. They’d probably accuse him of stealing a time-turner to gain information of the future to become Minister. The thought annoyed him. No matter how many times he assured the Minister of Magic he didn’t want his job, they were still suspicious._

_"Tom, I'll need you to keep an eye on her and alert me if anything arises." He turned his knowing eyes on the boy and Tom stiffened. He hated when Dumbledore had his gaze solely on him, he nearly felt transparent. A notion he's grown all too familiar with Delilah as of late. He looked at said girl who had passed out on the table, her chest rising and falling in an even pattern. Tom nodded once, "of course, sir."_

_He looked between them again and tilted his head to the side. "Is there something you wish to tell me?" He asked. Tom was the only one with her, he had to wonder if the boy wasn't letting on as much as he knew. A girl doesn't just start bleeding from her eyes. He ran his own tests and couldn't find any traces of dark magic. But one could never be too careful._

_Tom kept his gaze steady but he felt the strain in his neck growing. "No sir, nothing." The two held eye contact for a few more moments before Dumbledore nodded his head, "very well." Madame Fontaine then walked up to him, smiling warmly. "You seem to be her knight in shining armor, always there when she needs help." She blustered, patting him on the cheek. He mustered up a small, charming smile to mask his disdain of her touch. "It's really no fuss."_

_And right around that time is when Elio came in, pausing to take in the scene before rushing over to Delilah's side. Tom didn't miss the fire in the boys eyes as they landed on him._

 

__________________________________

 

 

"While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me." She knew the little shit was looking at her so she decided to grace him with her awful singing. It's the least she could do. "Merlin, do stop." Tom felt his lips twitch and his muscles stretched into something he wasn't familiar with. A genuine smile.

 

"Birds singin' in the sycamore trees. Dream a little dream of me." She spun in a circle and her heels slipped on a sheet of ice hidden beneath the snow. She let out a small scream and she felt the cold ice sink into her skin through the thin fabric of her lace. "Holy shit." Her teeth chattered and she glared at the look on Tom's face.

 

But the longer she looked at him, the annoyance seemed to melt away. He seemed lighter all the sudden. He offered her a hand and tugged her up none to gently, not holding on long enough for her to right her balance. Her dress was slightly heavier due to its new dampness. "At least you didn't laugh." She muttered, shivering slightly.

 

He began walking back to the manor and hummed, "believe me when I say I wanted to." That earned him a slight smack to his arm. They fell into conversation concerning the holidays and what they usually do, taking back passages through the manor to avoid people. "I would typically spend it with my family, but up until I was fourteen I started to spend it either with friends or I'd stay at school."

 

Tom hummed as they made their way to their hall, not risking saying anything incase she decided to retreat back into her shell. Delilah rarely talked about her time before she came to Hogwarts. And he was in no mood to pry into her memories again. He didn’t need a repeat of yesterday.

 

"What about you?" She said slowly, not sure if she was crossing some invisible boundary. Tom never talked about himself and the more she thought about it, she barely knew anything about him. That didn't annoy her as much as it usually would, she was keeping so much from him as well. Tom spared her a long glance before slightly shrugging. "Not so much different from you, I spent my younger years back at home." The word tasted foul on his tongue. The orphanage was far from being considered a home. More like a specially formed hell. He loathed that place and he swore one day he'd burn it to the ground. "Around third year I started either staying at Hogwarts or with one of the boys."

 

Delilah wanted to ask him why, and what his home life was like but kept the question to herself, perhaps another day. They stopped then, looking at each other and both of their backs to each their doors. "I do hate the holidays though, there's never enough to keep me busy.” He muttered, trying to prolong the conversation as much as possible. He needed her to keep talking, hoping something useful would tumble out. Specifically that supposed Malfoy she knew. She nodded an agreement, as much as she didn't really enjoy loads of homework, it did keep her occupied.

 

Her eyes wandered around, his eyes set her skin on fire. Delilah looked at the clock and her suddenly widened, it was midnight.She snapped her fingers. "Oh, I almost forgot." She spun on her heel and opened her door. Not waiting for her invite, he walked right in and raised a brow at the mess, clothes were everywhere and her bed a bundle of sheets. He leaned against the wall and watched as she tore her room apart even further, muttering curses as she went.

 

"Here it is, fucking hell." Her arm pulled out of a bag and she withdrew a small black box. She shuffled on her feet awkwardly before holding out her arm. "Saw it Hogsmeade when Pyrrhus took me to get my dress, thought you'd like it." Tom looked at her for a long moment, a peculiar glint in his coffee brown eyes before he looked at the box in her hand. "You got me a gift?" She nodded and gave him a nervous smile, regret crawling into her stomach. She realized it was a slightly odd gesture considering who the gift was for.

 

He slowly reached for it and pulled it out of her grasp. Sure, he's gotten loads of gifts forms a handful of girls, but this is Delilah. He narrowed his eyes then and pulled out his wand, triple checking just incase she hexed it. He ignored her offended look as he pulled off the top, one could never be too careful.

 

It was a cigarette case.

 

He lightly ran his fingers over the cold and bright silver, only dulled a bit by age. What really caught his eye was the intricate etchings. There was a coiled snake biting into an eagle, and the bird held what appeared to be acacia flowers in its beak. And there was elegant scrawl carved above the image. "Amor Vincit Omnia." He read in a whisper. It was Latin for 'Love Conquers All'.

 

He took it out of the box and it was surprisingly light, opening it his fingers touched soft black velvet lining. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his cigarettes and put them inside. "Thank you." A few seconds of silence passed between them. His senses felt slightly overwhelmed. Her entire room smelt like her, like peppermint. Delilah shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself and looked up at the ceiling fresco of the horses of the apocalypse, trying to give herself a distraction.

 

"Merry Christmas, Riddle."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

“Will you come to visit?” Rosie asked, hugging Delilah tightly around the waist. She smiled lightly and brushed away the girls hair, it hurt to lie to her. “Of course, little one.” 

“And read me more stories?” Her wide eyes stared up at Delilah and she felt an uncomfortable tug in her stomach. “Yes, lots and lots of stories.” Rosie gave her another tight squeeze before letting her go. 

Delilah stepped into the large fireplace next to Tom, who looked rather impatient. She grabbed a handful of floo powder and turned to face forward. 

“Promise me?” Rosie spoke with a stern look in her eye. The hope of a child is a powerful thing one shouldn’t meddle with. Delilah felt a tight smile pull at her lips. “I promise.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and grabbed Delilah’s hand, throwing the floo powder down with the motion. 

“The Leaky Caldron.” He said clearly, ignoring the glare she was shooting at him. 

__________________________________

 

As Delilah opened the door to her room at the Leaky Cauldron, she dusted off the soot from the fireplace. The room was small and held a decent sized bed, the old wooden floors covered in a thin layer of dust. She wrinkled her nose and made a mental note to clean it later. 

The group would be staying at the inn the last few days of the holiday, each person staying in their cramped rooms next to each other. Delilah snickered a bit at the thought. After staying at a manor for the past week, she was sure the rest of them were used to higher standards of living. Hell, even the dorms at Hogwarts were nicer. 

But as she sat on the rickety bed, dust coming up in clouds, a sense of fondness washed over her. Delilah observed her room. 

Wallpaper was peeling, revealing the cracked surface underneath. The ceiling hung low and was slightly caved. There was a single window looking out over the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, people bustling to do after Christmas shopping. 

Everything was the same. 

Delilah could almost pretend she was back in her own time, enjoying a holiday with friends. But as her eyes peered closer out the window, she didn’t recognize the environment. Not really. 

Absentmindedly messing with the necklace around her neck, Delilah got up and paced the room. Watching with a strange fascination the way her shoes made a track on the dusty floorboards. She felt odd, empty perhaps, or just blank. 

She didn’t feel like her. Like a person. She simply felt like a body with no immediate purpose. 

There was a rap on her door and it took nearly ten seconds to process the sound. Shaking her head, Delilah plastered on a smile and opened the uneven door; one side was longer than the other. 

Lolita stood in the hall with two cups of tea, the steam billowing out of the rim. She raised an eyebrow, asking silently if she could come in. 

Delilah moved to the side. She didn’t know why her brain was moving so slowly. Maybe she was just tired. 

Lolita’s pretty features scrunched as she observed the room. “Dear, why haven’t you cleaned yet?” Her dark eyes found the memory of floor tracks, she raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. Waving her wand, the floor was suddenly spotless, a floral scent also now lingered in the air. 

Delilah sat on the bed while Lolita grabbed the desk chair, then offered her the cup. “Drink, you look awful.” 

She chuckled at her friends blunt statement, Lolita always said what she was thinking. She didn’t have a filter, but she was never rude. Delilah liked that about her. 

However, with the way Lolita was looking at her over the rim of her cup, slowly drinking her tea, Delilah shifted uncomfortably. A few seconds of silence passed before a huff passed her lips, “you clearly want to say something.” 

“How are you?” 

That made her furrow her eyebrows. “Fine, why?” Lolita blew air out her pursed lips and set the cup down, she leaned forward and grabbed Delilah’s hands. Her own her soft and delicate, and always painted a shade of deep red. 

“You’re not as good at hiding it, you know. You’re very good at it, I’ll give you that. But your facade falls a bit when you think no one can see you.” Her voice was crisp and carried across the air easily, twisting itself in its elegant tone. Delilah was hyper aware of the feeling of Lolita’s thumbs trailing over her knuckles. “Hide what?” 

Her friend rolled her eyes and pulled back, picking up her cup of tea up and inhaling deeply. It seemed to calm her. “You’re a sad girl.” She said, and quickly shook her head at the glare Delilah was giving her. “That wasn’t a notion of pity. I meant it quite literally, you always look depressed. I can see it in your eyes, your posture, the way seem to deflate when no one is looking at you.” 

Delilah didn’t know how to respond. How does one even respond to that? She felt quite stupid really, for not doing a better job at ‘hiding’ her sadness. She didn’t think she fell into it on purpose, usually it’s a memory that triggered her sudden downfall in mood. 

“Do you want to tell me why?” Lolita asked, eyeing the girl in front of her carefully. Delilah confused her, not many did that to Lolita. She felt like she had everyone figured out to a certain degree, with Tom as an exception of course. Lolita didn’t even have the energy to try to break apart that boy. 

Delilah confused her because she seemed like an open book at first glance, but the closer you got the quicker the book starts to close. And just when it’s in your reach, the book is suddenly bound shut. Yet there was still a vulnerability to it. Delilah’s book was like a worn leather journal, slightly roughed up on the edges and just waiting to burst open. 

But Lolita supposed it was better that way. A girl would get nothing from the world but pain if she ran around with her heart on her sleeve. 

Delilah stared long and hard at the bed sheets beneath her, her eyes trailing along the lines of strain in the fabric. “Not really, if that’s okay.” 

A small smile pulled at Lolita’s lips. “Of course it’s okay.” She took a sip of her tea and relaxed into the chair, messing with her new engagement ring. The air instantly became less tense and Delilah felt herself relaxing. “Any New Years plans for tonight?” She asked, she needed to keep herself busy. 

Laughing lightly, Lolita shook her head. “Merlin no, not me at least. I’m planning to have a self pampering night while the boys are out.” 

Delilah raised a brow in interest, “what’re they going to do?” Lolita raised one shoulder in a partial shrug, setting down her now empty cup of tea. “Out for drinks no doubt, Riddle is staying in however. No surprise there. That boy is a hermit if I’ve ever seen one, even on his birthday.” 

It took Delilah a few seconds to realize what she said. “On his what?” Such a simple, normal thing didn’t seem to apply to a person like Tom. Of course he had a birthday, Delilah just never thought it actually existed. 

Lolita smiled slightly at the girls shock. “Half the school doesn’t even know, and he made sure of that. You’d think for an ego like his, he’d be shouting it in the streets.” Delilah shrugged at the thought. Tom did like the attention, but he usually only liked it if it was permitted. She didn’t like celebrating her birthday either, but she was sure it was for entirely different reasons. 

“When’s your birthday?” Lolita asked, a curious glint in her eye. Delilah bit her lip and looked out the dingy window, “November seventh.” There was a slight slap on her knee and she laughed at the annoyed look on Lolita’s face. “It was last month? And you didn’t tell me?” Delilah shrugged sheepishly. 

________________________________________

Tom felt his ears prick up at the sound of a knock on his door. He glared at the unevenly cut wood before looking down at his opened diary, notes about the Deathly Hallows littering the pages. 

Pushing away from the desk, the chair scratched against the wooden floors and he walked to the door. After opening it, he had the strong urge to slam it shut. There was nothing good about the way Delilah was smiling up at him. She looked like she knew something she shouldn’t, and it annoyed him. 

“May I help you?” There was a draft coming in from an opened window in the hall, making peppermint waft towards him in an incessant wave. 

He waved his hand in slight aggravation, causing the window to fall shut. Who kept a window open in the middle of winter, anyway?

Peppermint still lingered, but not as strongly as before. 

“How come you didn’t tell me it’s your birthday?” 

That urge to slam the door rose again, and this time he didn’t hold back. He went to shut the door, but Delilah pushed it open before it could fully close, wedging her body in the doorway. “Oh come on, how old are you now, seventeen? Eighteen? Bet I’m older than you.” 

Delilah was eighteen, but technically Tom was about sixty years older than her. She didn’t like that thought, so she shoved it away as harshly as possible. No, she assured herself as she looked at the boy in front of her with curly dark hair. He was young, he was her age. 

But she couldn't help but wonder what Tom Riddle was doing back in her time as an old man. For some reason a museum curator popped into her mind but she shook her head. Delilah may hate him, but she wouldn’t let her thoughts rob him of his youth. 

“Eighteen,” he ground out after trying to shove her out the door. He gave up when he realized she’d probably just stand outside his door like a kicked puppy until he let her in. Tom opened the door but didn’t let her enter any further into the room. 

Delilah crossed her arms at this but decided not to push the matter. “Let’s go do something.” Tom raised an eyebrow at her. Delilah wanted to willingly spend time with him for his birthday? Didn’t she have New Years plans to get drunk beyond wits with her little friends? That’s what the boys were doing. 

“No thank you, I’m busy.” He gestured to the desk and she peered over his shoulder on raised toes. Delilah scoffed, “What? Writing in your diary?” He nodded and watched in amusement as she let out a huff. “That can wait, the diary isn’t going anywhere.” She stepped back and gestured for him to follow. 

But when he didn’t move an inch, she ground her teeth and glared up at him. “Don’t you dare make me say it.” He blinked at her, a fake curtain of innocence hanging over his dark eyes. “Say what?” 

“You know damn well what.” 

He tilted his head, appearing genuinely confused and her own eyes burned holes through his chest. 

“Will you come with me...please,” she looked miserable. That tick he felt in his cheek came back, his muscles urging him to smile. But he shoved it away. “Fine, since you asked so nicely and you’re clearly desperate.” He grabbed his coat off the hook and shut the door behind him. Delilah opened her mouth to yell at him, to defend she was definitely not desperate, but shut it since there was no use. 

Tom felt his lips twitch again. 

________________________________________

 

Delilah led them to a small cafe on the muggle side of London. She didn’t have much money, so she only bought him a cup of coffee. Delilah supposed her Christmas gift made up for it, though. Besides, if he hated his birthday so much, he wouldn’t care. 

Tom stood against the wall, waiting for her to return with drinks. He made her order, seeing as she’s paying. And he didn’t want to interact with anyone, especially muggles. He watched her approach, weaving between people with a white cup that had steam pouring from the top. 

As she grew nearer, he realized she was singing happy birthday. It sounded awful, but thankfully the chatter of the cafe drowned out most of her vocals. 

“Happy Birthday dear, jackass. Happy birthday to you.” She had a ridiculous smile on her face as she offered him a cup of coffee. Delilah noticed the dark liquid was the same shade as his eyes. 

Tom looked at the cup for a moment. He’d had coffee only once before. It was at the orphanage when he was eight. He saw the grownups drinking it, so he wanted to drink it too. It was some weak attempt to show the other kids he was by far more mature. And he remembered hating it. Still, he took the cup from her and sniffed it. Delilah hid a laugh behind a hand and he glared at her. 

He took a drink and this time Delilah couldn’t help but laugh at the flicker of disgust on his face. “That’s foul.” He muttered, shoving the cup back into her hands. Delilah shrugged and took a drink of it easily, it was bitter, but familiar. She welcomed the burn.

They walk out the door and continue down the street, not a particular direction in mind. London looked so strange, it felt like she was looking at it through a time period movie. 

She spotted a man sitting on a ragged, dirty blanket on the street. Wrapped up in a tattered coat and shivering. He wasn’t the only one. Many people’s homes got destroyed due to the bombings. As they passed by the man, Delilah stopped and knelt down. 

Tom kept walking but turned once he realized Delilah wasn’t next to him. He raised an eyebrow at the man she was talking to. He was probably in his mid sixties and had a scraggly gray beard and red rimmed eyes. 

“Here you go,” Delilah gave him her cup of coffee and he stared at her wide eyed, hands shaking either with age or the cold as he grabbed it. Maybe both. “Thank you, love.” His voice was gruff, but still smooth. Almost like an over-rosined bow. “Do you know of any place you can stay tonight?” Delilah pulled out what money she had left and offered it to the man. He shook his head to refuse but Delilah softly grabbed his hand and put it in his palm. “Find someplace safe, okay?” She have the man's hand a squeeze before standing up. 

“Bless you, sweet child.” He looked as if he was about to cry and she gave him a small smile. 

Tom stood about five feet away, hands in his pockets and his eyes observant. They were fully trained on Delilah, however. He watched as everyone else on the street passed by them blindly, almost as if Delilah became invisible the moment she began to talk to the homeless man. 

After that, they aimlessly walked around the city. The streets were busy, due to it being New Years Eve. Quite a few people were already stumbling drunk in the streets, pouring out the doors of crowded pubs. Delilah laughed as one man started to chase after a cat, thinking it was his shoe running away from him. 

Her laugh died on her lips however when she and Tom came across a memorial for all those either missing or who’ve died in the war. Her eyes trailed along the faces of the hundreds of men, all smiling in the pictures their loved ones have posted to the wall. Her heart broke a little as she realized most of them were no older than she was. 

Tom also looked at them all, his neck craned up slightly to fully take it in. He hasn’t kept up to date on the muggle war going on, but he wasn’t ignorant like most of the wizarding war. He knew how deadly it was, just from the bombings alone. Not to mention the ever rising death toll. Still, he felt an emptiness. Like he should be feeling something, but he just couldn’t. 

“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Delilah muttered, more to herself. She wasn’t expecting a reply. 

“People die everyday for a faith rooted in a lost cause. They go in as pigs for slaughter. And the young see it as honorable.” Tom said this as he caught sight of a group of young kids playing in the street, all pretending to shoot at one another with hand guns. “Men get torn to shreds, wives weep, kids live on with bitter hearts.” His voice was soft, his eyes trained on a picture of a twenty two year old man who was enlisted in the Royal Air Force. He died two weeks ago. 

“Muggles are fighting a war full to the brim with blood, I expect the cup to overflow soon”

Delilah felt her throat tighten as she turned to look at him. His expression was the most curious thing. It wasn’t blank per say, she didn’t know how to explain it. He looked curious. “And you’re okay with that?” She said quietly. She knew he wasn’t the best person, but more terrible characteristics keep piling up against him. 

Her eyes turned back to the faces of young men. Any one of them could’ve been Tom. If he were a muggle, he would’ve been enlisted and shipped off to some version of hell this war had created. And whether or not he lived, a part of himself would die on whatever battlefield he fought on. War does that to people. War could do that to Tom. 

She felt sick. 

Delilah tugged on his sleeve and turned away. Tom eyed the picture of the pilot a moment longer. He looked at the name, some part of his brain told him not to forget it. 

Aaron Cloverfield.

They head back to Diagon Alley and stop in an ancient looking bookshop, the shelves much higher than the ceiling should’ve allowed. An expansion charm no doubt. 

Tom was off browsing in another isle, probably to find some information that could help his new study. Delilah realized he hadn't been sleeping much lately, it wasn’t necessarily noticeable. Tom looked put together as usual, but there was a heaviness to his eyes. He was spending every hour he could doing research. 

She wondered when she should tell him about the symbol. 

Delilah let her fingers trail over the worn spines of books, each looking much older than she was. She ended up in the back corner, seeing as the books got more interesting the further she went. A book on the lowest shelf caught her eye, gold lettering glinting against green. 

Bending down, she read the title and grabbed it with nimble fingers. It wasn’t that old, but the pages were ruffled with use. The book was filled with famous old Ministry reports. 

She sat down on the floor, something that was most likely frowned upon, but she didn’t care. Flipping open the book, she gazed across the report files with mild interest. 

One name stood out though, and she felt her body leaning towards the book in intrigue. It was a report on Grindelwald from 1926, in New York City. The file was transferred from the MACUSA. 

Her eyes read over the lines quickly, taking in the events of what happened. Her lips tilted up a bit at the mention of Newt Scamander’s name. She always admired that strange man. Towards the bottom of the page there was a quote cited from Grindelwald himself concerning the Statue of Secrecy. 

 

“A law that has us scuttling like rats in the gutter. A law that demands that we conceal our true nature. A law that directs those under its dominion to cower in fear, lest we risk discovery. I ask you, Madam President, I ask all of you — who does this law protect? Us, or them? I refuse to bow down any longer.”

Delilah bit her lip and read it over three more times. She hated it when the bad guy had a point. Though Grindelwald’s way of trying to progress the wizarding world was questionable. 

Someone kicked her leg and she looked up, Tom was standing above her looking even more tall due to her sitting. “The shop owner finds you sitting on the floor a tad disrespectful and has kindly asked you to either leave or buy something.” His voice was flat as he offered her a hand, tugging her up with more force than necessary. 

He always did that, simply to watch her fumble for her balance. It was amusing so he didn’t see a point to stop. 

Delilah huffed and put the book back, smiling as sweetly as she could at the grumbling shop owner as they left. They walked down the crowded cobbled streets back towards the inn, the late evening chill seeping through Delilah’s coat. She kicked at a pebble and found his silence a bit deafening. 

“What’s your opinion on the statue of secrecy?” She blurted, regretting it almost instantly. This would undoubtedly lead to an argument. Tom spared her a glance before looking forward again, ignoring everyone around them as he continued to stride forward. People moved easily out of his way, and by default, they moved out of Delilah’s way as well. She supposed there were some perks of being with him. 

“Some aspects are questionable on severity, but overall it’s needed.” He finally said. Delilah blinked at him in surprise, did they actually agree on something? She was about to reply, but he kept talking. 

“Muggles wouldn’t be able to properly handle the concept of magic, they can barely deal with something such as science. And jealousy is never a safe fuel, they’d be envious to a violent degree probably.” He mused and just then a light snow started to fall, the snowflakes catching on his dark hair. “Trying to get muggles to understand magic would be like putting a man on the moon; impossible.” 

Delilah felt her eyes spark up and a devilish smile reached her lips. Tom faltered slightly as he took in her expression. No, he didn’t like that at all. “What are you smiling for?” She began to laugh, oh how badly she wanted to tell him man would actually go to the moon. It burned her chest with desire. Just to prove him wrong. 

“I think it’s possible, man going to the moon I mean.” That was as much she could settle for. There was such certainty in her voice Tom nearly believed it himself, but he shook his head. “Well of course you would, you’re a half-blood.” The insult didn’t affect her in the slightest. “Yeah well, so are you.” That earned her an incredibly sharp glare. 

They started up the crooked stairs of the inn, bickering back and forth as they went. “It’s not physically possible, the moon is over two hundred thousand miles from the earth.” Tom said rather pointedly, but Delilah’s knowing flame was unwavered. 

“Oh believe me, magic won’t get us there. But muggle engineering will.” Without either of them realizing it, Delilah followed him into his room. 

“Don’t make me laugh.” Tom instinctively walked over to his already crowded desk, his eyes running over what he wrote in his diary. “You underestimate them so much.” Delilah sighed as she sunk into the bed, staring up at the ceiling, imagining the moon above her with the American flag planted on it. 

“It will be one small step for man, and one giant leap for mankind.” She muttered, thinking back to those infamous words said by Neil Armstrong. 

Tom scoffed and turned, diary in hand as he flipped through the pages, eyes scanning quickly. He raised his head due to the silence and he froze for a moment at the sight of Delilah splayed out across his bed. 

Her arms are out at either side, her hair a golden nimbus around her head, her feet just barely hanging off the edge. The image looked oddly natural, like she was supposed to be there. 

“What are you doing?” He finally said, ignoring the tension he felt growing in his throat. He relaxed his muscles and leaned against the desk, rifling through some papers to appear casual. Delilah raised her head to look at him before it suddenly dawned on her. “Oh,” she quickly rolled off the bed and landed on her feet. Looking at the spot she just recently occupied before staring at her feet. 

She scratched at the base of her neck and looked around the room for a moment. The room was clearly Tom’s, it was almost amusing. Everything was neat but had an undertone of chaos, mostly due to his messy yet organized desk. “I’ll just go.” Delilah gestured towards the door but her hand paused above the door handle. Turning towards him, she found him looking at her. 

“Happy Birthday.” 

He bit his cheek. “Happy New Year’s Eve.” There was a beat of silence before Delilah dipped her head and left the room. Tom stared at the place where she had laid on his bed for nearly two minutes. 

_____________________________________

 

Just as she left Tom’s room, she bumped into someone. Looking up, it was Elio. He was frowning and poked at her cheeks a few times. “You’re blushing.” His eyes then wandered to the door behind her, and his frown deepened. 

Delilah barely took in a breath and she could nearly taste the alcohol coming off him. “Merlin, how much did you drink? You’ve still got two hours till midnight.” She chuckled but it slowly faded as she looked at him. Something was wrong. 

“Are you okay?” She asked and watched as he slumped against the wall, rubbing at his face. He was still frowning. He sighed deeply before looking up at her. The lighting in the hall was poor, but his eyes were glossy and probably bloodshot. 

“Do you love me?” 

Delilah felt as if someone had reached a fist inside in her lungs and ripped the air from them. She stared at him dumbly, not knowing what to say. 

Yes, is what she should say. But her lips stayed parted. 

Elio closed his eyes tightly and hit his head against the wall a few times, muttering the word stupid over and over again. Delilah winced as she watched him. 

“Elio-“

“No, no, listen.” He stumbled over his words and slowly sunk to the floor, knees propped up to his chin. “I never know how to deal with you, you- you’re a very hard person to please.” He hiccupped halfway through his sentence. Elio kept his eyes focused straight ahead as Delilah walked over to him and sat down, leaning her head back against the wall. 

She closed her eyes and sighed, she knew this would happen eventually. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head and wiped at his eyes, “Don’t.” If she apologized, he’d probably scream till his throat bled. “I feel like I barely know you, but every time you look at me it’s like I’m glass that you find kinda interesting.” 

He looked at her then, and she was so beautiful. The dim orange glow warmed her skin and lit her eyes up, and her hair fell in curled waves. “You never tell me anything, I never know if you’re upset, or- or I don’t know. Anything! And I feel like a piece of shit because I never know what you feel, and I should, that’s my job. I’m supposed to recognize when something wrong.”

He closed his eyes again once he saw the necklace he gave her hung around her neck and he hit the back of his head against the wall. “Did you ever feel anything? For me, I mean? At all?” 

“Of course. I still care about you.” With his eyes closed, he could really pay attention to her voice. She’d said it so sadly, she sounded pained. “I always will.” Delilah felt her heart drop at the sight of him, he looked broken. And she was the cause of it. 

“I don’t think this relationship is going anywhere, so,” he sniffed and wiped at his eyes again, the skin around them irritated. Delilah swallowed and opened her mouth but he shook his head, abruptly standing up. He swayed a bit with the moment, he was more drunk than he thought. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry. You shouldn’t be. It’s my fault really.” 

“No.” She said instantly, getting up on her own feet as well. “None of this is your fault, I should’ve known better than to get in a relationship. I’m not exactly mentally stable for one at the moment.” 

Elio furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at her, he couldn’t help but raise a hand to cup her cheek. She was always so cold. The door behind him seemed to scream and something tore in his chest. He was an absolute fool to fall for someone whose love was fixated on someone else. And of course that someone else had to be him. 

He always took what made Elio happy, always. 

And as he pulled his hand back, and turned away, what pained him the most was the fact that he still loved her. Even if she ended up with someone else, even if she ended up with him, Elio would jump off the highest bridge if she asked him to. 

Delilah felt dizzy as she watched Elio walk away and go into his room, his door shutting softly. So that was it, they were done. 

Part of herself knew it was for the best, but the state of him said otherwise. It really was her fault. His necklace felt so cold against her skin it nearly burned, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off. She felt like it was a part of her now. And she did care for Elio, she really did. And she hoped with whatever limited time she had left, she’d fix this new cut in their relationship before it was too late. 

____________________________________

The count down to the New Years came and went, and Delilah sat rigid on her bed. The clock ticked by in a steady rhythm, and she found her heartbeat was in sync. 

That scared her for some reason. Terrified her, even. Her heart was beating with each second, counting down time, almost like a warning. Telling her time was running out. It was two in the morning and she couldn’t breathe. 

She wasn’t breathing heavily, nor was she breathing too fast. Her chest rose and fell evenly, but it felt as if no air was getting in. Panic shot up her spine like an uncomfortable itch. The room’s already slanted walls seemed to slowly tilt inward, the caved ceiling sinking with each second. Her ears started to ring, and she panicked. 

Without a second thought, Delilah bolted out her door. 

_____________________________________

Tom heard a door slam two doors down from his; Delilah’s door. His eyes turned towards the clock and he read the late hour. Was she planning on waking the whole hall? He ignored the burn to go and see what she was up to and continued to read the book in his hand. 

He was sitting at his desk since he couldn’t lay in his own damn bed. He tried, but it smelled so strongly of peppermint that everytime he closed his eyes he couldn’t help but see her. Tom’s eyes trailed to his bed again and gazed at the spot where Delilah had laid on it.

Shaking his head, Tom turned away and walked to the window. Diagon Alley was still active, but not as much as before. Orange light poured from each shop, the only light source in a few miles radius. London was dark, but not as much as usual due to the holiday. The city usually had its lights out at night due to possible bombers. But the lights were on in every other street, mostly pubs. Which still bustled with people. 

What caught his eye however, was the sudden glow of golden hair crossing the street directly below his window. “What in the name of Merlin.” He narrowed his eyes, before they slightly widened. 

Without a thought, he grabbed his coat and was out the door. 

______________________________________

He followed her as she exited Diagon Alley and into muggle London. The nights chill bit through him like a determined hound, despite his coat. Delilah was probably freezing, seeing as she simply wore a dress. 

“Pontmercy!” He called out, and she whirled around. Her cheeks and nose were tinged pink due to the cold. “Are you following me?” Tom raised an eyebrow at her as he neared, stopping about a foot away. He looked her over, she wasn’t shivering. But something was clearly wrong. “Obviously.” 

“Well stop.” She turned and stomped down the street, a single street light barely making the end of the block visible. Releasing an annoyed huff, he continued after her, his long legs easily matching her stride. 

“Don’t be an idiot, you’ll get yourself killed out here. Either by a raid or a drunkard.” He knew Delilah could handle herself, she proved that by going against him. Then again, she didn’t have her wand. She did know some wandless magic however, he kept meaning to ask her about that. 

“Fuck off, I can handle a drunkard.” 

“And I believe you, but can you handle a bomb?” 

“I know my way around London.” She spat. Though did she really? This city was completely foreign to the one she was used to. This city was war torn. 

“As do I,” he said. She raised a brow and turned towards him. “You grew up here?” She noticed how Tom bit as his cheek for a moment, one of his few characteristics. 

At that moment Tom realized something rather annoying. If he wanted her to open up to him, he’d have to divulge some information about himself as well. But of course he’d do it slowly, and minimally of course. 

“Yes,” he let out a breath and looked down the street to his left. “Not too far from here, actually.” She watched as something silver glinted; the cigarette box. He pulled one out and snapped his fingers, casting both their faces in an orange glow that contrasted starkly with the blue atmosphere around them. 

Delilah was about to ask him where he lived, perhaps in her own time she wandered by his house without knowing. But the words died on her tongue as she watched him stiffen. 

“What?-“ She began but he cut her off with a sharp look to his eye and a single finger raised, demanding she be quiet. He looked like an animal caught in headlights based off his body language. his eyes were frozen on the sky above.

And that’s when she heard it, the distant siren of planes approaching. And a lot of them. Then there was the sudden mournful whistle of something deadly growing nearer. 

That whistle was like the muggles own version of an omen of death. 

Suddenly the sky became ablaze in a glorious, yet frightening inferno. And so many black dots zoomed around in the sky. There was a loud explosion from a different part of the city, but the ground still rumbled beneath their feet. 

They looked at each other then after tearing their eyes away from the sky. “Air raid.” She muttered to herself, barely having time to process the notion she was actually living during World War Two, that this was real, not something she was reading about or watching a movie on. And this wasn’t some scary accurate re-enactment. 

This was real. 

“Tom,” she breathed, the reality of the situation falling on her like a heavy weight. His jaw tightened and he ignored his own fear crawling up his neck, making the hairs stand up. He looked around quickly for a decent shelter. He spotted a building down the street, and grabbed Delilah’s hand. 

Tom took off in a sprint, nearly dragging her with him. They jog up the stairs and he tried the door, but it was locked. He cursed slightly and before he could even do anything, Delilah reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand, unlocking the door. 

The just barely made it inside and shut the door when there was an explosion dangerously close, probably a street over. The shock of it shook the entire building, shattering the windows in the process. 

Tom yanked Delilah to his chest, wrapping an arm around her to secure her balance as the ground beneath them trembled violently, and his other arm wrapped around her head, keeping her face down and away from flying glass. He wasn’t so lucky however, shards tore through his close and stuck painfully into his back and his arms. 

Delilah screamed, but neither could hear it over the shattering boom of another explosion, this one extremely loud and incredibly close, causing their ears to ring. 

The ground shook angrily, almost like it wanted them to fall. Tom swayed and his feet stumbled, but he managed to get them in a corner. He put Delilah to the wall, leaving his back exposed to more damage if it were to be so. Neither of them could think clearly enough to cast a protection charm. Delilah couldn’t even process what was happening, and Tom’s main focus was the girl he held.

There were two more explosions, though farther away, before all went silent. 

They remained in their position for awhile. Tom pressing her tightly to him, both wrapped around each other and breathing heavily. Once it dawned on Tom it was over, he relaxed his taut muscles and felt the sharp sting of the glass in his skin. “You idiot.” Tom mumbled into her hair. He looked down at Delilah, who appeared to be shaking a little. Tom quickly realized she was in shock. 

Delilah was holding so tightly onto Tom her knuckles were white and shaking. Her chest felt tight and her mind foggy, she couldn’t think straight. She felt out of body, like this was some cruel trick the universe was playing on her. Delilah tried to tell herself she was fine. She wasn’t just in an air raid and almost killed. She felt like screaming out her confusion to the events that just occurred. 

“Delilah,” His voice cut through the air like a knife. She shook her head, eyes shut so tightly it nearly hurt. “Delilah, look at me.” He placed a hand on each of her cheeks to tilt her head up, ignoring the pain it caused him. 

She was so cold. 

A wave of calmness washed over her as she looked into his eyes. Tom had bent his head down slightly so they were at eye level, his dark orbs boring into her blue ones. Her pupils were dilated and stormy, her breath coming out in uneven pants, but she wasn’t hyperventilating. “You’re alright. You’re here. The planes are gone.” 

She nodded slightly, still appearing slightly dazed. Tom sighed and pulled her back into his chest, resting his chin on top of her head and he rocked her slowly. He noticed something else then, she not only smelled like peppermint, but there was also the smell of dust after rain. Petrichor is what it was called. 

“You’re alright, ‘Lilah.” 

He didn’t know where the nickname came from, it just rolled off his tongue. But it felt right, like it was meant to be said. And it seemed to be the trigger to finally calm her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I did my math correctly, (it very well may not be), Tom would technically be 18 during his seventh year


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally updated!! I’m so sorry for the long wait, I’m currently in the process of moving houses so it’s been hectic!! Hope you enjoy!

She had spent a majority of the ride back to Hogwarts alone in a compartment, Lolita stopping by every once in awhile to make sure she was okay. Pyrrhus also came by for a while to bring her lunch, ranting about some people he found fetching at the ball. 

"Hey, whatever happened to Cosette? That Ravenclaw in our DADA class?" They had gone to Hogsmeade together, all thanks to Delilah. Seeing as he begged her to ask Cosette for him. 

Pyrrhus shrugged as he bit into his sandwich, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. "I don't know, I like her though. I guess I just got nervous and I sort of..." he trailed with a shrug. Delilah narrowed her eyes at the slight gleam of guilt on his face. "Pyrrhus?" 

He sighed and handed her the rest of his food, suddenly losing his appetite. "I panicked and just sort of started avoiding her. I'm pretty sure she hates me now." 

Delilah looked at him for a minute before smacking him upside the head. "You can't just do that!" She shook her head and ate the rest of his sandwich. Part of her wanted to ask why he even started seeing Cosette if he was still talking to Ovela. But that breakup was still recent, so she kept it to herself. 

"I know." He winced at the new ache on the back of his head, half heartedly glaring at her. "I feel like it's too late to apologize. It's been two months, it'd just be awkward." Delilah settled her eyes with a steel gleam as she looked at him, mustering up the best impression of her mother. 

And it worked, Pyrrhus began to fidget under her stare before throwing his hands up. "Fine! I'll apologize to her tonight at the feast." 

Nodding her head, she leaned back in the seat and Pyrrhus took to resting his head on her lap. "Good, I'll be sure to watch." 

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed. Delilah took to running her fingers through his hair as she stared out the window, watching the green landscape of Scotland pass by in a blur. 

With the sound of Pyrrhus clearing his throat, she looked down at him with an eyebrow raised. "I never got to ask you the other night, after the raid. You looked pretty shaken." 

Flashes of bright light and glass flying everywhere came to the forefront of her mind, she could almost hear the sirens again. Shaking her head, she continued to run her fingers through his hair. "I'm okay, Riddle got the worst of it." Delilah felt a bit guilty, he had shards of glass dug into his skin due to protecting her. 

"He's been through more air raids than I'm sure most of us could count." He muttered, messing with the hem of her robes absentmindedly. Her brows furrowed, "cause he lives in London? He said he spent most of his time with you guys." 

He nodded, tugging at a loose seam. "He does for the most part, I suppose he'll get his own place soon since he's eighteen. But some weeks he has to go back to the orphanage." 

They both froze. 

Pyrrhus shut his eyes tightly, feeling like an idiot for letting that bit of information slip. Whereas Delilah's eyes were as wide as the moon. "To the what now?" 

He slowly looked up at her through one cracked open eye, gauging her reaction. Shock was evident. Tom would kill him for this. Still, this was Delilah, she would've found out eventually. 

"Don't tell him I told you, actually, don't even tell him you know at all. He hates talking about it."

Delilah's mind reeled with this newfound information to the puzzle that was Tom Riddle. He was an orphan? "Does he have any family?" She tiptoed around the fact that Tom was a half-blood. The boys knew a lot about Tom compared to the rest of Hogwarts, but she felt like this was a secret he was hell bent on keeping. 

Pyrrhus shrugged, "he never talks about it." He bit his lip and poked her cheek, thinking for a moment. "Want to tell me what happened between you and Elio?" 

She groaned and threw her head back, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her skull.  

____________________________________

As she sat down at the Slytherin table with the girls, well away from a certain green eyed boy, her eyes found Dumbledore at the staff table. As if sensing her gaze, the man turned and gave her smile. 

After everyone was settled, Dippet walked up to the golden owl podium and cleared his throat. "Welcome back!" He cheered, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. He went through the typical beginning of term information. Delilah zoned out, staring expectantly at her empty plate. 

Olive nudged her side though and gestured for her to look at the front. "It's that bloke from the ball." She whispered, staring curiously over the crowd. 

With brows furrowed, Delilah turned and her eyes landed on a dark skinned boy with a charming smile. Their gazes locked and he sent her a wink, causing a handful of people to look in Delilah's direction curiously. 

"I'd like to introduce another new student! Everyone welcome Aleksander Eques, a seventh year Ravenclaw." The table clad in blue and bronze clapped the loudest, as did Delilah. She felt her eyes lingering on the table of eagles a bit longer than necessary. That was her true house, after all. 

Well, now she definitely had an excuse to hang out in Ravenclaw tower. Her eyes then landed on a redhead and she smiled widely, waving her arm to get his attention. He was a bit farther down, but eventually he spotted her. Septimus grinned, his freckled cheeks stretching with the movement and he returned her wave. 

"Since when are you friends with Weasley?" Lolita asked, grabbing a bread roll off a platter. Delilah hadn't realized their food arrived. "Oh it's quite the fascinating tale, I accidentally set him on fire." 

____________________________________

She'd managed to go through half the week avoiding everyone, especially Elio. Delilah felt awful for putting off talking to him, she just couldn't find the courage. 

Her success on avoidance crumbled however when Slughorn asked her to stay a moment after class. "Yes, Professor?" She fumbled with the strap on her bag, rocking on her feet slowly, she felt restless. 

"I do hope to see you tomorrow night." The old man blustered, fumbling around in his briefcase. Her eyebrows shot up and she looked around the room, "pardon?" 

Slughorn looked up at her with a funny expression, "the Slug Club dinner? Did Tom not tell you?" Delilah shook her head, annoyance at the coffee colored eyed boy bubbling in her chest. Well, she couldn't fully blame him. She's been avoiding him all week. 

Then again, if Tom wanted to find someone, he would. Did that mean he was avoiding her as well? They didn't really talk much after the air raid. She couldn't blame him, they left things... awkward? Delilah wasn't really sure, but something seemed to shift in the space between them. And whether or not it was for the better was an entirely different question. 

It was good to know that he didn't want her dead, however. At least not yet. 

Delilah nodded at Slughorn after a moment, feeling a new layer of stress fall in her shoulders like a heavy quilt. "I'll be there." 

Walking out of the Potions room, the dungeons were relatively empty. Most students were probably out in the courtyard or down at the Quidditch pitch. That's where the girls should be, but Abraxas and Elio would no doubt be practicing. No, she couldn't go there, she wasn't ready to face Elio yet after their breakup. 

Her mind then trailed to the library, that was always a safe haven. But as Delilah turned the corner, she just caught a mere glimpse of dark curls walk into her hideout. Grinding her teeth, she let out a huff and slumped a shoulder against a wall. Flashes of that night rang in her head again, a bit more prominent since seeing Tom triggered their appearance. 

____________________________________

"Shit, are you okay?" Delilah felt her mouth go dry as she took in the state of him. Tom slowly took off his jacket, barely wincing, but it did sting. Her eyes widened as she saw blood start to spot through his shirt on his arms. "Tom-"

"I'm fine." He settled her with a sharp glance and walked over to the door, which was hanging limply by its hinges. Delilah sucked in a breath at the sight of his back, which was also starting to be stained with blood. "Let me-"

"I'm fine, Pontmercy. We need to get back to the Inn." His tone was cold and a bit distant as he trotted down the steps. Delilah hesitantly walked forward, outside the building there were distant screams, the crack of fire, and orange tinted smoke. Her ears were still ringing, but as she walked out, the sounds became vivid. 

A building, only two down from the one they sought asylum in, was blown to bits. The entire front wall was now crumbled bricks and she could see each level and how it was destroyed. 

Her eyes wandered to the street and her knees buckled. 

"Oh my god." She choked out, ignoring the shards of glass and wood digging into her legs. Tom whirled around at the sound of her voice. It sounded, well, he didn't exactly know. But an ache started in his ribcage at the tone of it. 

Delilah was on her knees, palms pressed against the pavement still hot from the bombing, her eyes wide and stuck on something in front of her. Tom followed her gaze and grew tense. 

It was a mother covered in ash, almost appearing like a ghost, clutching her dead child to her chest, screaming. The kid couldn't be older than five, and its body was mangled from the explosion. 

Tom rushed over to Delilah and tugged her up, turning her face away from the haunting sight of the mourning mother. "Come on," he mumbled, steadying her as she tried to walk. 

They made it to the Inn, earning a few strange glances seeing as Tom was bloodied and Delilah looked like she'd been petrified. Stumbling up the stairs, Tom pushed open her door with his shoulder and carefully set her on the bed. 

He got light headed for a moment, the room smelled painfully like her. But it was a pain he was absentmindedly welcoming. 

Tom meant to leave after he was sure she wouldn't have a panic attack, but as he turned to go she grabbed onto his sleeve. "Wait." The word was quietly spoken but seemed to echo around the room. He raised an eyebrow at her and she slowly looked up at him, wide eyed and doe like. 

"Let me help." She gestured to his bloodied clothing, he'd nearly forgotten. "I'm-"

"Fine? No you're not, sit down." The authority in her voice was slightly surprising due to what they just went through, and reluctantly, he sat at the desk. It was the same exact style as the one in his room, but this one was like a blank canvas. Just waiting to be used, to be studied on, to have some insightful revelation. 

Delilah got up and walked over to him after she grabbed her wand, she stood in front of him awkwardly for minute and cleared her throat. "Can you?" She gestured to his shirt. His eyes rolled at her flushed cheeks and he started to undo the buttons, he was sure he wasn't the first shirtless boy she's seen. 

Her mind was moving a mile a minute, so when he stood up, she failed to take a step back. 

They were so close. 

Their eyes caught each other as he undid the buttons, and neither could find their will to look away. Tom untucked his shirt when he was finished and shrugged it off before holding it tightly in his hands, which were clenched in front of him. 

Delilah found her eyes trailing down his chest, her appreciation of his toned figure clouded by the sight of numerous scars. Her hand twitched to reach out and touch him. 

"Curious, aren't they?" He mused dryly, watching her carefully. He felt rather exposed, and he didn't know why. Which bothered him. She wasn't the first girl to see him shirtless, so why were his hands shaking? Delilah looked up at him with a raised brow due to his tone. 

Tom trailed his eyes up to the caved ceiling, letting a faux thoughtful look veil his features. "If I recall correctly, I was hit with a rather nasty and dark spell." Her eyes widened then as realization dawned on her, she looked back at his chest and arms, at all the scars. Some much deeper than others. "Fucking hell." 

Turning around, Delilah took in his back and she winced. Scars also littered his back, curving around his muscles like misdirected contour lines. There were numerous tiny gashes which were new, thanks to the glass. Most of the bigger pieces came out when he took off his coat and shirt, but smaller pieces were still wedged in his skin. 

She waved her wand to get rid of the glass shards and went to work on cleaning the cuts. "Well at least you won't be getting any new scars." She joked, a nervous laugh passing her lips. Tom looked over his shoulder at her with an unimpressed brow cocked. "Pity."

Ignoring his satirical tone, she flicked her wand and closed all the cuts. His back now mostly smooth and removed of all blood, his muscles still seemed taut. 

"Finished," she didn't mean for it to come out as a whisper, but he heard her. Tom turned and the distance seemed to shrink, they were probably six inches from each other. 

Each drowning in the others presence, yet completely unaware. 

Tom looked down at his shirt, which was pretty much done for. That was the second shirt Delilah inadvertently ruined by getting him cut up. Silence stretched between them like a tense rubber band, and it was about to snap. 

He opened his mouth but paused, trying to find the right wording. His dark eyes then trailed up and took in her features, which were lightly dusted with ash yet it seemed to make her eyes glow. "Are you alright?" Tom finally said, his voice low and even. Anything louder would feel like a scream.

She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself, "not really." The image of the mother and child kept flashing like a street sign, blinding her. "Will you be?" A strange invisible dome of comfort seemed to lace around them, almost creating an entire environment of nirvana between their bodies. 

Delilah took in a breath, which she didn't know if it was a mistake or not. With his shirt off his scent became stronger; burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes. Despite herself, over the past few weeks she's found herself seeking out that smell, wanting him around without realizing it.

"Maybe...no." She shook her head and looked down at her feet. "I don't see how anyone could be okay after seeing something like that." Tom nodded, turning his head away from her to look out the dingy window. 

Empathy was something lost on him, but even he could admit something like that was troubling to watch. He himself never experienced motherly love, but the notion was hard to miss during the war. His mind reeled back to the woman clutching her son, her mouth hung open in agony as she tore apart her lungs with a scream. 

Tom felt a chill roll up his spine. If loving someone and then losing them was that painful, why would anyone let themselves fall in the first place? Whether or not it was simply platonic. He shook his head and looked down at Delilah, she'd probably punch him if she heard his thoughts. 

He'd been weary these past few days after the incident in the woods, she clearly didn't remember. But he wasn't sure if anything would trigger said memory. And Merlin knows she'd be absolutely furious with him. Maybe even to the extent where she never spoke to him again. 

No, he couldn't have that. The idea in itself appalled him, if Delilah wasn't around it'd be like the world had gone of its axis. Thoughts such as these scared the living shit out of Tom, and not many things could accomplish such a reaction. 

"Get some rest." 

And he left her standing there. 

____________________________________

 

Raising a fist, she knocked on the door before stepping back. Delilah smoothed down the dress Lolita let her borrow with one hand and twisted Elio's necklace around with the other. Currently, she'd rather be anywhere else than be at Slughorn's party, but there she was. Standing out in the hall like an idiot. 

She knew she was supposed to bring a date, and Delilah was planning on asking either Septimus or Aleksander. But with Elio attending the party as well, she felt it inappropriate. 

Finally the door opened and she was met with her half drunk Potions Professor, smiling widely and holding a goblet in one hand. "Delilah, Welcome!" He gestured her in and she smiled timidly, quickly eyeing everyone who was attending. 

There was a large table with mostly Slytherin students. All the boys were there, and each had a date on their arms, except for Elio. He had his eyes trained on his plate and didn't look at her, something she was slightly grateful for. 

A sigh of relief passed her lips as she spotted the girls, Lolita and Aurora next to their boys, Abraxas and Cain. Olive was also there, she was sitting next to Tom. His arm was lazily draped over the back of her chair and he wasn't looking at Delilah either. 

Next to Pyrrhus sat that Ravenclaw girl she made him apologize to, Cosette, and she sent them a smile. There were a few others there, two from Gryffindor, three from Ravenclaw, and one from Hufflepuff. 

She sat herself down between Olive and Pyrrhus, clearing her throat awkwardly since she obviously interrupted a conversation. "Hopefully I didn't miss anything too interesting." 

Aleksander sent her a smile while he shook his head, taking a tentative sip of his drink. "Professor Slughorn was just telling us about his endeavors in Hungary, it's very fascinating." Delilah found herself sharing his grin, not missing the satire behind his eyes. "Please continue, Professor." 

Slughorn continued to babble for nearly an hour and a half but she zoned him out, only nodding here and there as she picked at her food. Delilah turned her head away and hid a yawn behind her hand, but her gaze caught on Tom. 

He was looking at her over Olive's shoulder and gestured to the door. She raised a brow, she didn't take him for one to ditch a teachers dinner. He was the head boy, usually he kept up with pretense. Delilah shook her head and made a point to bite into a piece of broccoli.

Not being fazed, Tom gestured to the door again and she rolled her eyes. Setting down her fork, Delilah cleared her throat and everyone turned to look at her. Shifting a bit in her seat, she glanced at Tom and he just barely raised his eyebrows as he slowly took a sip of fire whiskey. 

"I'm feeling a bit peaky, I thought it'd wear off by dinner but sadly it's becoming a bit much." She ignored the look Lolita was giving her and stood up once Slughorn nodded. "Of course, my dear, feel better!" He raised a glass and just as the door shut behind her, she could hear him start another story. 

Delilah looked around and walked over to an awning that was next to a window, smoothing down her dress before sitting down. Rolling her neck, her gaze turned to look out at the night sky, gazing at the cosmos. The January air bit at her skin, but she didn't mind. 

Looking back down the hall at Slughorn's door, nearly twenty minutes passed and she laughed dryly. "What the fuck am I doing?" Shaking her head, she stood up and began to walk away. Why'd he ask her to leave if he wasn't coming out? Was he just annoyed by her presence? That didn't seem too far fetched, the more she thought about it. 

Just as she reached the stairs to the dungeons, someone took hold of her arm and whirled her around. A scream nearly left her mouth as she found Tom holding a finger up to his lips. He looked oddly haunting with the low lighting of the hall, the green flames from torches casting shadows on his face. He almost didn't seem real, like a phantom. 

"What took you so long," she bit out, shrugging off his hold. Tom shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk down the stairs. "I couldn't very well leave right after you," he turned and looked up at her, realizing that she was still at the top of the stairwell. "Think of the scandal." 

An unwelcomed image sprung up in her mind, and Delilah nearly fell down the stairs as she came to realize what she just pictured. 

Tom Riddle kissing her, in this very staircase, her back pressed against the cold stone. 

She suddenly felt very hot and her cheeks were undoubtedly flushed, where the fuck did that come from? Shaking her head, she began to walk down the stairs as he turned to continue. "Why'd you want to leave?" 

Watching him dig in his pocket, Tom pulled out a cigarette and lit it, casting a small orb of a dim orange light around him. "You clearly looked miserable, those dinners are exhausting." 

Delilah bit at her cheek, she thought she was hiding her boredom rather well. But leave it to Tom to see right through her. "I was actually having a good time." A light chuckle left his lips, smoke coming out as he did so. 

"You can read lips, not minds Riddle." There was a pang in the back of her skull but she ignored it. Delilah instead focused on her annoyance at him for that stupid image in her head, it wasn't going away. He didn't have a say in the matter and she realized she was being irrational, but the warm feeling in her stomach was incessant. 

Tom gave her a rather smug look with an eyebrow raised, lifting a hand to pull his cigarette away from his lips. She watched as a cloud of white poured from his nose and disappeared into the air. "Shut up," Delilah muttered. She needed to get away from him if he was going to walk around acting like, well, like that. 

She still hated him, but Delilah could never refuse the notion that Tom was attractive. His personality often ruined that, however. 

"Slughorn said we're to serve our detention tomorrow," he said after they entered the common room. Her brows furrowed before she remembered their incident while dueling. That felt like so long ago. "Doing what?" 

"Cleaning the trophy room, it's better than grading papers for him. Honestly, this school is filled with idiots." Tom ran a hand through his hair and threw his cigarette into the fire, watching as it curled up and burned in the flames. 

He felt Delilah come to stand next to him, her arms crossed as she too, gazed into the fire. "Why'd you really ask me to leave?" Her voice was quietly spoken, just barely heard over the dull crack of logs. Tom bit at the inside of his cheek, wishing she didn't ask so many questions. That'd make everything so much easier, though admittedly less interesting. 

He asked her to leave because of Aleksander, the little shit wouldn't take his eyes off her. Something about the new Ravenclaw didn't sit right with him. 

But Tom would never tell her that of course, she'd probably scold him, rant about how he was acting possessive or what not. And Tom was possessive, he could admit that, but he came to terms with the notion that no one could ever own Delilah Pontmercy a long time ago. She'd cut them a smile each if anyone ever tried. 

That thought made his lips tug upward slightly, and Delilah just barely missed it. It was odd yet fascinating to see on him, she rarely saw him so much as smirk. But this was nearly a lopsided grin. And she desperately wanted to know what caused it. 

"Goodnight, Pontmercy." And with that, he turned and left out the common room. She huffed and stared back into the fire, she'd forgotten he had his own dormitory as Head Boy. So why'd he walk her to the common room? 

The image of them kissing rather intimately sprang into her mind again and she rubbed at her temples. Sleep, that's what she needed. 

____________________________________

 

Begrudgingly, Delilah and Tom handed over their wands to Slughorn, and in exchange their Professor gave them cleaning supplies. He was just about to leave when he whirled around and fixed them each with a pointed gaze. "I know the two of you are rather skilled, no wandless magic. I'll know." He tapped his nose before leaving down the hall, observing their wands curiously. 

Huffing, Delilah picked up her bucket and rag and went to the left of the room, trying to put as much distance between her and the boy she was with. That stupid image was still ever present in her mind. It even decided to make an appearance in her dream. If she was being frank, part of her didn't mind, but it was a tad overwhelming. 

Tom didn't seem to notice any shift in her behavior, and if he did, he didn't comment on it. Barely ten minutes passed in silence and she started to whistle ‘A Taste Of Honey’, earning an annoyed glance over Tom's shoulder. "I've never heard that before, is it muggle?" There was a slight hint of disdain in his voice, but he did seem curious. The tune was rather catchy and despite himself, it wasn't too bad to hear. 

Considering Delilah was awful at singing, her whistling a song was a gift. "You wouldn't know them," seeing as The Beatles won't be around for nearly twenty years. Delilah was about to start whistling again when something caught her eye on a trophy. It was a golden shield that held the title 'Special Award for Services to the School' and underneath it held a name; Tom Riddle.

Stifling a laugh as she grabbed it, Delilah turned to him with a dumb smile on her lips, "Aw, look what I found." Tom turned and caught sight of what she was holding, a scowl curling at the corner of his mouth. "Jealous?" That earned a scoff from the back of her throat as she halfheartedly cleaned it and placed it back on the shelf, "hardly."

A few more minutes passed, the silence not helping her mind keep distracted. Why did it always have to be him plaguing her thoughts? Why not her fear of never getting home? Why not puppies? Or even Brad Pitt? Her lip curled in annoyance at herself and at a smudge that wasn't going away on a plaque. Looking over at Tom, he seemed completely comfortable with the atmosphere around him. He didn't seem to mind the quiet. But it was currently driving Delilah up the wall. 

"Would you like to know something curious?" She blurted out before she could stop herself. Tom looked at her through the reflection in the glass, an eyebrow raised. "The symbol of the Deathly Hallows, y'know the triangle-circle thing I showed you?" She smiled slightly as he instantly put down the trophy and turned around, Delilah enjoyed having his attention, but she'd never admit it. 

"Well?" He urged, waving the rag at her impatiently, "I usually can't get you to shut up, don't start now." Delilah ignored the jab and craned her neck up to look at him, she was still sitting on the ground and Tom had walked over. "That mark is often confused for being Grindelwald's mark, seeing as the majority of his followers wear it." 

Tom raised an eyebrow, but his lack of a reaction made her frown slightly. He didn't seem surprised. Nodding to himself, he began to pace slightly as he bit at his cheek. Grindelwald already had the Elder wand, but if he was associated with the mark of the hallows, that must mean he's aware of the others existence. Which really was quite annoying. If Grindelwald knew of their existence, there was no doubt in his mind he was trying to find them as well. 

Still, Tom could never turn down a good challenge. And a Dark Lord was splendid competition. 

A thought occurred to him then, and Tom whirled around to look at Delilah with a curious gleam in his eye. She raised a brow, shifting slightly as she put down another trophy. She didn't like the way he was looking at her, "What?" 

"How did you know Grindelwald's followers wear the mark?" She never did cease to catch him off guard now and then. She was like a book full of secrets he never knew he wanted to read. Delilah shrugged, "I probably read it somewhere, common knowledge," she waved her hand dismissively but Tom shook his head. 

He walked closer to her and she leaned back slightly, only to find her back hitting the trophy case. Tom bent his knees as he knelt down to be at eye level with her, his dark gaze boring into her royal blue ones. "It's not common knowledge, darling. If it was, I would know about it... coming to think of it." She watched as he tilted his head, he was looking at her as if she was some rare artifact he stumbled upon. Panic started to crawl up her back, but she did her best to keep her features neutral. 

"How do you know so much about the Deathly Hallows?" Delilah pulled her tongue away from the roof of her mouth and swallowed, her mouth felt painfully dry all the sudden. "I told you, I read about it-"

"Yes, everyone and their mother has read about it. But they think it's a mere fairytale, and they don't know about the mark. Nor do they know Grindelwald's supporters bare it." His eyes narrowed slightly, trying to decipher why she was lying, or why she even felt the need to. He was about to ask her something else, but the door opened and Slughorn bustled in, a smile on his face. 

"It's lunch, you've a break for the time being." 

His annoyance flared even more when he caught Delilah letting out a sigh of relief. 

What was she hiding? 

____________________________________

 

Delilah avoided the great Hall because Tom would undoubtedly be breathing down her neck the whole time, and because of Elio. She knew she needed to talk to him at some point, but he seemed just as keen on avoiding her as well. 

So due to this predicament, she found herself sitting on the edge of the Great Lake, her legs dangling off a large rock, throwing random stones in and ignoring the way her stomach was growling and a certain boy who wouldn't stay the fuck out of her head. Of all people, why'd it have to be him to catch her slight fancy? It made her hate him even more. 

Hearing the shuffle of rocks a few feet away, Delilah flinched and acted on impulse, drawing her wand and firing the first hex to come to mind. There was a slight gasp from the person and she blinked a few times before she registered who it was. 

Olive was glaring at her, wand raised as she casted a protego on herself, and in her other hand she was clutching a small basket. "That's not how you're supposed to thank the person who brought you lunch." Delilah smiled awkwardly and patted the empty spot next to her, which was a lumpy rock but it made due. 

Huffing, Olive carefully navigated her way around the rocks and sat herself down, halfheartedly shoving the basket in Delilah's hands. "Thank you," She muttered, the smell of a sandwich hitting her nose and making her stomach growl. Olive hummed and turned her gaze to the lake, trying her best to ignore the January air biting into her skin. 

Looking over at Delilah, she was surprised the girl wasn't shivering, seeing as her own teeth started to chatter. "When are you going to talk to Elio, he's a proper mess at the moment. Merlin knows he won't talk to you first." Delilah sighed as she bit into her food, part of her wishing the lake would just swallow her whole and drown her. "I don't know, soon, maybe..."

"What even happened?" 

Delilah picked at a thread on her robes and shrugged, "we weren't going anywhere. And I shouldn't have even gotten into a relationship in the first place, that was just cruel to him. And I love him, I do, but-" she trailed and went a bit stiff when Olive rested her head on her shoulder. 

The girls eyes were downcast and she worried at her lips, there was a sort of distant melancholy air about her. Delilah's never seen her like this before, it was slightly off putting. Olive sniffed but she wasn't crying, she wouldn't allow herself to, not anymore. "No two people mean the same thing when they say I love you." 

That was true, and the reality of it settled itself uncomfortably on Delilah's shoulders. Three simple words shouldn't hold such power. Those words had the ability to either raise cities or burn them to the ground. 

Their comfortable silence ended abruptly when Olive spotted Tom making his way down to the lake. "That's my cue to leave," She grumbled, making her way up to her feet and brushing the dirt off her robes. Before she left, Olive looked down at Delilah with her lips pursed slightly. "You really do need to speak to Elio soon." And then she turned and left, pointedly going the long way around to avoid Tom. 

Throwing her head back and releasing a groan, Delilah stood up and fixed her skirt. She wasn't in the mood to talk to Tom, he'd probably bombard her with questions concerning why she knew so much. Part of her wondered if she just came out with the truth, would it sound so ridiculous that he wouldn't believe her? Possibly, but it'd be incredibly idiotic. 

Tom stopped a few feet away from her, higher up seeing as he was further from the edge. "Sightseeing?" He mused, gesturing to the still water lake. It appeared vacant above surface, but there was an entirely different environment below, he hoped to observe first hand some day. 

"You could say that," Delilah made a point to not look at him and instead turned her focus to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A beat of silence passed, Tom's patience wearing thin, but Delilah suddenly lifted up an arm and pointed at something. "Do you see it?" Her tone held something of excitement, and when she turned to look at him, her royal blue eyes were alight. 

He followed where she was pointing but didn't see anything, was she pulling his leg? "No, I don't see it," He said flatly. But she was unwavered and a smile breached her lips. "It's right there, between those two trees adjacent to that boulder," What she was seeing was a thestral, that beautiful creature half the wizarding world didn't believe existed. But there it was, stretching its winds and shaking its head. 

Tom narrowed his eyes at the spot she indicated, he was just about to give up looking when he noticed a branch shift and a new divot created in the dirt. There was definitely something there, he just couldn't see it, so how could- "a thestral?" 

Delilah nodded, slightly surprised he remembered when she ranted about them while they were on holiday. Part of her assumed Tom tuned her out most of the time. "They're quite stunning-" her sentence got cut off due to her letting out a surprised scream. As she turned to look at him, her foot slipped on slick surface of the rock, and into the lake she went. 

He couldn't help the dry laugh that left his lips once she went under, only to reappear a few seconds later, gasping and wiping the wet hair away from her eyes. Tom settled his features and raised a brow at her, "you're probably one of the most clumsiest people I've ever met." 

A slight pout met her lips and he sighed slightly through his nose.

Making his way down to the large boulder like rocks that lined the lake, he held out a hand to haul her out. But as he started to tug her upward, his shoe's grip gave out. 

"Merlin-" Tom's voice cut off as he fell into the water, nearly landing on top of Delilah. The water bit into his skin painfully, like daggers of ice cutting into every nerve. Tom emerged from underwater to the sound of Delilah laughing, it carried over the surface easily like ripple and met his ears. 

"You find this amusing?"

"Incredibly."

"It's freezing."

Delilah hadn't noticed, for some reason it didn't occur to her in any mind. In fact, she barely even felt the water, it was almost like a phantom presence around her body, and the chill of the water was a memory. Tom himself was trying to keep his teeth from chattering as they floated around each other for a moment, their legs kicking out an occasionally touching. 

"You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube," Delilah mused. He scoffed and began to swim back towards the rocky edge of the lake, his limbs feeling painfully stiff as they moved through the water. His eyes scanned to find a decent rock to haul himself out as quickly as possible without the chance of falling back in. 

He took his robes off since they were weighing him down and threw them onto shore before grabbing hold of a jagged edge. Although she tried, Delilah couldn't take her eyes off him as he began to lift himself out of the lake, his white shirt now see-through and stuck to his back. She watched as his muscles shifted and strained, only looking away once he was out and turned around towards her. 

Her cheeks felt on fire and were probably bright red, but hopefully he would just assume it was the cold. She swam over and he helped her out successfully this time, and Merlin was it hard to think straight as she was pressed against him for a moment. Hyper aware of his lean chest being visible through his shirt. 

Once he was sure she wouldn't fall again, seeing as he was in no mood to help her out if need be, he dried himself off with a spell, Delilah following shortly after. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards the forbidden forest, "want to see if you can touch it?" The thestral was still grazing along the edge, unaware of their existence. 

Tom motioned for her to lead the way as he shrugged his now dried robes back on, his hair was messed up though. "Are you nervous about exams?" It was a stupid question, Tom would pass all of his tests with flying colors. But he was being unnervingly silent. "No, though others are more vital than others. Considering what career path you choose." 

"What do you want to do?" Delilah could never picture Tom at a normal job, though his brilliance would do him well in a Ministry job, it was no place for someone as complicated as him. And his ambition was vast, but a position such as Minister for Magic would be too noisy. At heart, she thought Tom was adventurous, his curiosity and yearning for knowledge always fueling him. 

"I would like a position here," Tom said after a moment, not missing the look of confusion on her face. "Really? I mean there's no shame in being a professor but, I don't know," she shrugged, gesturing to the air around her. "There's so much more out there, and someone with your talents has a lot going for them." 

"My talents?" He basked in the blush flooding her cheeks and she glared at him. "Shut up." Delilah quickly held out an arm, halting Tom from moving forward. Her eyes were trained on a spot a few feet in front of her. "Right there," she pointed between a knocked over trunk and a makeshift fence made of rocks. 

Delilah knelt down and Tom did the same, their thighs pressed against one another. He couldn't see anything, so he made sure to keep his ears open. Every few seconds he could hear a shift in the dirt and a huff from a nose. He was beyond curious to know what the creature looked like, because the way Delilah's eyes were shining, the thestral was obviously something to behold. 

She slowly rose to her feet and told him to wait with a hand. Making her way slowly forward, Delilah held out both her palms as she approached the fantastic beast. It's foggy white eyes gazed at her warily, stepping back a bit as she slowly neared. "Hello, beautiful." Her voice was like a soft caress that carried across the air. 

It was a bit odd to observe, to Tom it looked like she was talking to a tree. 

The thestral huffed a bit and slowly stepped forward, looking at Delilah curiously and she smiled. "I'm afraid I don't have any food for you, maybe next time." She let out a sigh as the thestral nuzzled it's nose against her palm. Looking over her shoulder, she gestured for Tom to come over. "Slowly, keep your hands raised," she warned and for once, he did as told. 

He didn't exactly know where to approach, so once he got near enough, Delilah took hold of his hand and guided it forward. Cool, leather-like skin met his touch and his brows furrowed at the feeling of bone. "No fur?" He asked, Delilah shook her head as she guided his hand down the thestrals neck. 

Once he got comfortable, he took to brushing his fingers along the side of the creature. To him it looked like he was touching air and Delilah smiled slightly at the expression on his face. 

"Do you have any plans for the summer?" Tom's question caught her off guard, the silence around them breaking and the thestral huffed slightly. 

Yes, she had plans, to get back home. But as the days flew past in a blur, her hopes seemed to dwindle. "Not that I know of, what about you?" Tom's eyes followed his hand as it moved, trying to imagine what the creature looked like. "I'll be traveling with the boys, but I'll be staying in France for awhile. You're welcome to come along." 

She blinked at him for a moment, her hand pausing on the spot where she was petting the thestral. "Maybe," if she was still around by then. Delilah continued her movement before peering at him from the corner of her eye. "Why'd you come out here? I never got the chance to ask." 

"Oh, right. Dumbledore wanted to see you." 

____________________________________

 

Stumbling up the stairs, Delilah nearly tripped three times. She should've smacked Tom for not telling her right away. It was obvious he didn't like the transfigurations Professor, but it irked her that he didn't tell her as soon as he approached the lake. 

Knocking on the door, Delilah was out of breath as it opened, smiling up at Dumbledore. "Sorry, I got caught up." He eyed the dirt on her clothes before waving a hand, gesturing for her to come in and sit down. "No trouble at all, lemon drop?" 

"No, thank you. You wanted to see me, sir?" 

He clicked his tongue and nodded, settling himself down in his chair. Resting his elbows on the edge of his desk, hands steepled beneath his chin, he observed her for a moment. She was looking considerably better, seeing as she was bleeding out the last time he saw her. 

"How are you?" She shrugged and scratched at the back of her neck, "fine, a little winded from running up here." Dumbledore watched her over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. He wanted to ask her about that memory he saw of those dreaded few months, her screams still followed him around. He even lost a bit of sleep due to it, and Merlin knows Dumbledore barely got enough rest as is. 

But there were more pressing matters. 

"I have a proposition, a plan if you will, to get you back home." As soon as the words left his mouth, Delilah shot up straight. She did it so quickly she got whiplash and she felt breathless all over again. "You do? Did you find out what happened? Who sent me here?" 

Dumbledore shook his head as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "No, sadly those questions still go answered. But I do believe there's a way to get you back home, though the method of doing so will be a bit questionable... and dare I say, illegal." 

Delilah raised a brow at him, her mind moving a mile a minute. "Meaning?" Whatever it was, she'd do it. If he believed it could get her back home, she'd do anything. If he'd just spit it out already. 

"To put it simply, get into the Ministry, and acquire a time-turner." And by acquire, he meant steal. Delilah's brain reeled at the near impossibility of it. She's broken into the Ministry before, on more than one occasion, but that was when it was overrun by Death Eaters and she had connections. Nonetheless, if Dumbledore thought she could do it, she was getting that fucking time-turner. 

"What's the plan?"


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Biting the inside of her thumb, Delilah’s foot shook incessantly as she leaned against the far wall in the common room. Her mind reeled at the outrageous ‘plan’ Dumbledore suggested. Hell, it wasn’t even a plan. The man wasn’t an idiot, but just walking into the Ministry?

Snapping out of her thoughts, Delilah focused on the large crowd in the common room. It was fairly late and storming outside, though they couldn’t really hear it due to them being in the dungeons. All was quiet, except for the crack of the fire, the white noise of the lake, and one girl’s heavenly voice.

Lolita was sat on the armrest of Cain’s chair, he had an arm wrapped around her waist as she sang St. James Infirmary Blues. Her voice was almost like honey, everyone quiet and watching as her fingers played with her fiancés hair.

Something shifted next to Delilah and she involuntarily flinched at the closeness of Tom. When did he get there? He was leaned against the wall next to her, hands in his pockets and head slightly tilted. His dark eyes seem to glow an almost auburn due to the fire reflecting in the pools. The smell of cigarettes was a bit more prominent, suggesting he just got done with having a smoke.

“Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary

See my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table

She's so sweet, so cold, so fair.”

Delilah was partly surprised Lolita even knew the song, considering it’s muggle. As her eyes danced around the room, the rest seemed unaware of the fact. She wondered if they knew, would they listen? Now that she thought about it, Delilah barely knew anyone in Slytherin, besides her friend group.

No one ever really tried to talk to her, albeit she didn’t try to socialize either. Perhaps they saw her as unapproachable? Her friends were considered the more ‘popular’ and Tom is a bit intimidating, though for some reason he was loved by the whole school.

“Let her go, let her go, god bless her

Wherever she may be

She will search this wide world over

But she'll never find another sweet man like me.”

Her eyes then trailed to the boy next to her, he was biting at his cheek again, an indication he was thinking. A thought suddenly occurred to her. Was Tom clever enough to break into the Ministry? And if so, how would he go about doing it? Part of her wanted to ask, and say it was all theoretical of course. The idea seemed so daft, Delilah was sure he would think she was kidding.

“When I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches

Put on a box-back coat and a Stetson hat

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.”

Come to think of it, why couldn’t Dumbledore just go get the time-turner himself? Surely he had connections, he was Albus Dumbledore for fucks sake. He couldn’t just walk in, she knew that, the Ministry was already hesitant with him considering his relations with Grindelwald.

Delilah huffed slightly at the thought, but still, surely he had to know someone who could go get it. Why send a teen girl? If Delilah got caught, that’d be the end. She had no records in this timeline, she doesn’t exist. And Merlin knows what the Ministry would do to her.

“An' give me six crap shooting pallbearers

Let a chorus girl sing me a song

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.”

A soft breath suddenly fanned her cheek, it was warm and made her spine give a slight tingle. Tom had leaned over, his gaze still trained on Lolita, but his words aimed at Delilah. “Why would he be singing to his dead girlfriend?” Lolita’s voice was mesmerizing, but Tom’s slightly rasped voice completely invaded Delilah’s mind.

“She’s not actually dead, she’s just dead to him.” Delilah whispered back, turning her head to face him. Neither of them paid much thought to lack of distance between their bodies. Their noses were nearly touching. At the blank look on his face, she sighed a bit. A waft of peppermint and the smell of dust after rain hit him and he shifted a bit on his feet, absentmindedly leaning a bit more towards her. “Their love is dead, and in a way, it’s killed him too.” She was met with an eyebrow raised and she chuckled, “you’re hopeless, Riddle.”

“Folks, now that you have heard my story

Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;

If anyone should ask you

You just tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues”

As soon as Lolita finished, the room rang out with applause and whistles, effectively severing whatever bubble Tom and Delilah had created around themselves.

The urge to call out to him bubbled in her chest as she watched him walk away towards Pyrrhus, she wanted to ask him about the Ministry. But perhaps it was for the best she missed her opportunity.

________________________________________

Delilah was about to turn down an isle in the library when someone grabbed hold of her elbow, whirling her around into some corner. “Hey,” she blinked and barely registered the two people in front of her. “What?” She said dumbly, yanking her arm out of Xan’s hold.

He shared a glance with Katerina before settling his steely eyes on the blonde. “Why are you still hanging around with that lot? With him?” His voice was filled with disdain and she raised a brow, but with one look at Katerina, she paled.

Shaking her head, Delilah crossed her arms and cleared her throat. “That was never confirmed.”

“Never confirmed?” Katerina hissed slightly, trying to keep her voice down. She was looking at Delilah as if she had two heads. “Did you not see my back? Did you not see Xan’s?”

“Look, anyone-“

“No, not anyone. Not just anyone is capable of fucking branding someone, Pontmercy. We heard them, clear as day, and you continue to deny the blatant truth.” Xan poked her harshly in the shoulder and she collided with the bookshelf behind her. “Why defend them?”

“I’m not defending them!” A few students sent glares their way and Delilah clenched her jaw and rubbed at her eyes, a headache was starting to form in the back of her skull. “I’m just saying, you’ve no proof-“

“Proof? Are you joking? Would you like to see the words carved into my back, or have you forgotten?” Katerina stared at her incredulously. Delilah was a kind girl, but utterly blind to the facts surrounding her. Just then the library door opened and Xan peered around the corner, a sudden fire to his eyes.

“What has he ever done for you to earn your defense, hm?”

Delilah followed where he was looking and spotted Tom speaking to the librarian. Shutting her eyes tightly again, she shook her head and looked back at Xan, not having the faintest clue what to say. She didn’t want to answer that question, because she knew the answer. Tom’s done nothing to earn her sticking up for him.

“Go on and ask him,” Katerina waved her hand but Delilah shook her head again. “I already did.”

“And let me guess, he denied it? Well then, ask him about this,” she leaned in towards Delilah, her breath sending nervous shivers down her spine. “Ask him who the Knights of Walpurgis are. I dare you. Ask any one of those boys you call your friends. See how they try to scramble for an excuse, then.”

And with that, Xan grabbed Katerina’s hand and they left Delilah standing there, completely aghast with the sudden shift in the air.

Delilah lost control of her shaking legs and slumped to the floor, burying her head in her knees, trying to steady her breath.

They couldn’t have done this. They couldn’t.

Because if they did, she’d kill them.

With a groan she threw her head back, the hit sending a book toppling, knocking her on the head. “Shit,” she gasped out and a fifth year Gryffindor glared at her. “Could you be any louder?” The boy said, staring down his nose at Delilah in disgust. “Fuck off,” she wasn’t in the mood, so to prove her point even further, she flipped him off.

“Oh, very classy.”

“Hey you little twat, listen-“

“Pontmercy.”

Delilah whirled around at the sound of Tom’s voice. He stood with a book held under one arm and a hand in his pocket, looking at her as if she was five. She paled slightly at the sight of him. Running her eyes over Tom’s form, she really did wonder what all he was capable of.

_________________________________________

Tapping her foot, the desk kept thudding every few seconds. Earning annoyed glances from not only her classmates but her professor. Delilah had also been gnawing on her lips so much she ended up making them bleed.

Her eyes were stuck on the back of a platinum blonde haired boy. Whom had turned around a few times, feeling her obvious gaze burning the back of his skull.

After the fifth time turning around, Abraxas eventually whirled around with two eyebrows raised, “what?” Delilah gestured for him to come closer with a wave of her hand, and begrudgingly, he did just that.

Leaning on her desk with one arm, he lowered his face to be near hers. “Do you know Xan and Katerina? The two Ravenclaws?” Abraxas raised a brow and shrugged.

Setting her jaw, Delilah honestly wasn’t even sure she wanted to ask. Confronting Tom was one thing, he’s nearly thrown her off a tower. But Abraxas?

“Did you do that to them?” Her voice was a whisper and she spoke slowly, but only earned a blink from the boy. “Do what?”

Groaning, Delilah slumped forward and hit her forehead against the desk a few times. “Easy there,” Abraxas muttered, rushing his hand to block her from doing it again. Sighing, Delilah rested her cheek against the cold wood and peered up at him.

“Are you a part of the Knights of Walpurgis?”

Abraxas stiffened and his knuckles turned white due to his tight grip on the back of her chair. How the fuck did she know that name? He didn’t let his expression waver, he couldn’t, Tom would kill him if he let anything slip. Did this mean Delilah knew what happened that night? That dreaded night with Xan and Katerina? Why else would she be asking?

Panic bubbled in his chest, Aurora would hate him if she knew. Probably never talk to him again, would Delilah tell her? No. He couldn’t have that. That would be worse than being murdered by Tom.

“I beg your pardon?” Abraxas tilted his head to the side in feigned confusion, rolling his shoulders slightly because his muscles had gone taut. “They said they heard you, and the markings-“ her sentence was cut off when Abraxas took hold of her arm and lightly tugged her up. He led her to a corner in the charms room, looking around for a moment to make sure there were no prying eyes.

“Del, I don’t know what to tell you, honestly.” He made a point to look her directly in the eye, he couldn’t give away any signs of guilt. Even though it was currently eating away at his gut. Delilah bit the inside of her thumb, taking in his gray eyes and the rest of his features. She didn’t want to believe he did it. She really didn’t. But why on earth would Xan and Katerina lie about something like this.

“But if the group or society or whatever it is,is marking people, I need you to be careful, alright? I know you can handle yourself, but nonetheless. I’ll talk to Aurora, too.” Every word spoken felt like a dagger twisting inside Abraxas. And at that moment he hated Tom. He hated him for luring Abraxas into his little group with big aspirations. He hated him for making Abraxas feel like he has to do these awful things.

But really, Abraxas hated himself.

He could’ve said no at the beginning, before anything ever happened. But he was too deep in Tom’s plans now, they all were. And his current predicament was no one’s fault but his own.

Delilah buried her face in her hands and let out a long breath. “I know, I’m sorry. I knew you had nothing to do with it, I just… sorry.” She gave him a soft smile and Abraxas tried his best to return it. “No need to apologize, you wanted to know, I can’t blame you for that. But again, be cautious who you talk to.”

She should be cautious of him.

“If Professor Ellis asks, I’m in the bathroom.” Abraxas felt like he was about to explode and he turned on his heel the moment Delilah nodded. As soon as he was out the classroom door, he took off in a sprint. He was planning on going to the bathroom, but he was on the verge of falling off a knife.

Turning into a cut off which was covered by thick drapery, Abraxas stumbled through the fabric and could feel his chest rising and falling, straining against the fabric of his robes. Merlin what did he get himself into? Lying to Delilah like that, it made his brain feel dizzy. It’s not like he hasn’t lied before, but this was something else entirely. And what if he had to lie to Aurora? Hell, he already was. The shame of that felt like it was burning him alive.

With his brain moving a mile a minute, Abraxas didn’t even register how he raised a fist and slammed it into the wall. There was a dull crack of pain that shot up his arm and he hissed, “fuck.” Looking down at his now split knuckles and trembling hand, he sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw.

If he was being honest with himself, he deserved far worse than a broken hand for what he did to Xan’s back. Leaning against the wall, he made himself focus on the pain as much as he could for a few moments, making sure it burned, before quickly healing it. Righting his robes, Abraxas sniffed as he ran a hand through his hair. He had to get back to class.

_________________________________________

“There he is, go.” Olive gave her shoulder a shove but Delilah shook her head. “No I’m not ready yet.” The brunette rolled her eyes and shoved her more harshly, making her stumble a bit and earning a few glances from the other students in the common room. “Go. Now.”

“Fine, _mum_.”

Olive gave her a satiric smile and flipped her off before giving Delilah a pointed look. With a sigh, she rolled her shoulders and made her way over to a certain pale green eyed boy sitting near the fireplace. Absentmindedly, she reached a hand up and fumbled with the necklace he gave her. Would he want it back?

She didn’t know why, but she felt like it was a part of her, the cool metal felt natural against her skin. So, just before she reached him, she tucked the necklace under her shirt.

Clearing her throat, Delilah shifted on her feet for a second, “Elio?”

His head shot up from his book, his eyes wide for a second before a small smile reached his lips. That definitely threw her off, but it made her relax a bit. At least he wasn’t angry.

“Hi.”

His voice brought a strange sense of comfort over her like a blanket and she mustered up her own lopsided smile. “Can I sit?” Delilah gestured to the spot next to him and he nodded, closing his book to give her his full attention.

“How are you, I know we haven’t really had a chance to speak since we got back,” choosing her wording carefully felt vital. “I’m good, yeah. Mainly I’ve been studying for finals. I never got to ask you about how you were after the whole… air raid thing.”

Elio felt his chest contract as he looked at her, she always looked so beautiful in the firelight. And part of him didn’t really want to ask about the air raid. He felt selfish for thinking it, but he felt he should’ve been the one with her. Not Tom.

But of course he was with her when she needed someone. It was always Tom. And it pained Elio to realize it would never be him.

“Oh I’m okay, mostly.” Delilah bit at her thumb. Something about Elio was off, he was usually a decently opened person, but something seemed to shut off. The air around him felt heavy, a complete contrast to the typical lightness of him.

“So, I’ve um, been invited to that trip you’re all taking over the summer.” The environment around them felt awkward and she loathed it, Elio was usually so easy to deal with. “Is that okay?”

He raised a brow and picked at the book he was holding, running a finger down the worn spine. “What do you mean?” His heart had picked up its pace at an annoyingly quick rate. He didn’t know if he could survive a summer with her in France. Delilah already drove him insane, but a summer in France? Merlin, he’d be even more of a goner.

“I mean… are you’re okay with that? If you don’t want me to come I completely understand.”

“Well why wouldn’t I want you to come?”

Delilah felt like tearing her hair out right about then.

He looked at her for a long moment, watching the way her mess of golden hair shifted as she moved and the way her nose always did that small twitch that reminded him of a bunny, it was adorable. Elio still loved her, and he enjoyed the time he spent with her. And he’d enjoy France with her no doubt, even though it would hurt knowing she was no longer his.

Then again, she never really was.

Running a hand through her hair, Delilah shook her head and stood up. “Never mind, just thought I should ask.”

_______________________________________

The next evening, Olive had rested her feet in Pyrrhus’ lap, lazily flipping through her transfigurations text book, the words mushing together incomprehensibly in her head. There was muffled arguing coming from across the main study section of the library, though she didn’t pay it much mind.

Pyrrhus however, had his head tilted as he watched the two, throwing a few Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans into his mouth. “How do you eat those?” Olive huffed, her lips tugged down in disdain. He shook the box at her, popping another bean into his mouth, thankfully this one was cinnamon. “It’s a surprise in every bite, I like to be kept on my toes.” Pyrrhus shot Olive a wink and she rolled her eyes before trying to have a crack at studying again.

Turning his head, he continued to watch Delilah and Tom bicker. It’s been going on for about ten minutes, probably arguing over their potions essay they were assigned. They always seem to be at each other’s throats. He didn’t pull his eyes away from them, but leaned over towards Olive to whisper, “they’re quite an interesting match, no?”

Looking at them over her book, Olive worried at her lips as she analyzed how they acted towards each other.

She knew how painful it was to love Tom, or at least think she was in love him with him. But Delilah was different, Tom actually gave her his undivided attention. But perhaps that was worse, Olive knew the dangerous things he was into, things no eighteen year old should even know about. But was Delilah aware of his nasty habits? Or did she just choose to remain blind to the facts swarming around her like incessant bee’s.

Ignorance was blissful, she mused.

Pyrrhus messed with the lace hem of Olive’s socks and she felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck as his fingers tickled her skin. “Have you ever heard of Folie à Deux?” she asked.

A pang of worry drove into his own stomach as he looked back at Delilah. There was a blush in her pale cheeks, which seemed a bit more sunken in than usual. His gaze shifted to Tom, who’s dark eyes were alight with something Pyrrhus had only seen once before, the night of the Yule Ball when he watched them dance together. Sighing through his nose, he turned back to Olive and began to fumble with the laces on her shoes.

“A bond that exists between two people who bring out the worst in each other.”

They both turned just in time to see Delilah wack Tom on the arm with a text book. If it were anyone else, he would undoubtedly want to hex them, but would take away house points and give a detention slip. But Tom simply glared halfheartedly at Delilah and grabbed the book from her hands.

“Is there a term for those who bring out the best in each other?” Pyrrhus muttered, but she shrugged and opened her book again. She’d been on the same page for nearly half an hour, “I don’t think so.”

_______________________________________

The next Friday, the conversation she had with Xan and Katerina was like a constant siren going off in her head. She’d been tossing and turning in her bed for nearly an hour, even getting a pillow thrown at her by Lolita. The darkness in the dormitory seemed oddly bright and Delilah couldn’t get to sleep for the life of her. Groaning, she threw the covers off herself and slipped on her shoes before heading out the door.

“What am I doing? What the fuck is wrong with me? This is stupid.”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls of the empty halls of the castle, each rebound telling her to just turn around and go back to bed. What if he wasn’t even up? It was late, nearing one in the morning. Then again she didn't even know if Tom slept, he probably just napped sporadically.

But the head boy’s and girl’s dormitory entrance was now in her sights, the door standing tall and intimidating, urging her to go away. Her feet carried her forward nonetheless and her fist raised. As she knocked on the wood, part of her hoped Tom wouldn’t answer and he was asleep, or maybe the head girl would open the door and tell her off for being out after curfew.

Nearly a minute passed and Delilah tried to suppress whatever disappointment she felt with the relief hiding in the back of her chest. Just as she turned, the sound of a door opening met her ears and a dim light flooded into the hall. “Damn,” she muttered, spinning around to find a half dressed Tom who looked slightly annoyed and surprised.

“What are you doing here?” His voice carried over the cool night air easily, almost like a ripple in a still pond. Delilah wrapped her arms around herself, she should’ve put on pants and the night’s draft made goosebumps rise along her skin. Walking forward, she gestured to the common room over his shoulder, “can I come in?”

Raising a brow, he looked her over quickly. Her hair was a mess, her nightie was slightly askew, and her socks were mix matched. Then after what seemed like forever, he nodded and stepped away from the door. He didn’t exactly give her much room however, and Delilah had to squeeze her way past him, doing her best not to touch him.

The common room was more open than Slytherin, it had dark wood floors and the wind slightly rattled the large windows. She stood awkwardly for a moment, her eyes flickering around the room and pausing on Tom for only a second. Delilah felt oddly exposed, her nightwear making her feel slightly vulnerable with the thin fabric. Spotting an armchair, she made haste to go sit down next to the fire.

That was Tom’s chair, but of course she didn’t know that. He looked at her for a moment as he made his way to the mantle, leaning an arm on the carved stone as he stared at Delilah. Why was she here? What could be so important? His mind went back to the day in the forest, but no that couldn’t be it. If it was, there was no way in hell she’d be this calm.

“I have a question.” Her voice rang around the room, severing the silence around them. Her heart was beating at an annoyingly quick rate. She shouldn’t be this nervous to ask a simple question. And perhaps she wasn’t. Delilah was more nervous to hear the answer, she didn’t think she wanted to.

Lighting a cigarette, it dangled between his teeth as he let out a puff of smoke, “go on.” His curiosity was peaked, he couldn’t ignore that, but honestly what was so important? Why couldn’t she have waited till morning? He watched as her foot tapped and she twirled that bloody necklace between her fingers. He hated that necklace, every time Tom saw the blasted piece of jewelry, it felt as if it was taunting him.

All she had to do was say it, simple as that. Ask him who the Knights of Walpurgis are. But the longer she looked at him, with the fire light casting half of him in shadow, she just couldn’t. Not yet.

“I might not… be around by the time summer gets here. So I was just wondering when you needed a final answer about France.” She rubbed her eyes in annoyance at herself, but feigned it as being tired. God, why was she such an idiot?

He blinked at her before tapping the cigarette on an ashtray, watching the way the ashes crumbled into a pile. “Might not be around, meaning what? Have you already got a job offer?” His surprised tone irked her slightly but she shrugged it off with a wave of her hand.

“No no, nothing like that. Just, family business.” Delilah said slowly, inwardly cringing at her own wording and lack of reasoning. She should’ve practiced a back up plan.

He raised a brow, “family business?” Tom’s probably only heard her talk about her family a handful of times. Delilah nodded and leaned back in the chair, trying her best to come off as casual, even though she was mentally freaking out, “Yeah, because of the war.” Chewing the inside of her thumb, she was sure she sounded ridiculous.

He sighed slightly through his nose before stubbing out his cigarette, “I don’t know why you came to me, it’s not my place we’re staying at.” For some reason, she felt a jab of disappointment at his lack of a reaction to her leaving. “How long will you be gone? The poor boys will be heartbroken.” He didn’t let himself snicker at the image of Elio having to watch his ex girlfriend leave him.

Again.

Delilah glared at him for his seemingly apathetic attitude towards the situation. But really, what was she expecting? Tears? That was laughable.

“No, well I uh… I won’t be coming back. Ever. So, just wondering.” She cleared her throat and scratched at the back of her neck, her eyes looking anywhere else but at him.

Tom grew rigid almost instantly, as if someone had put a body binding jinx on him. His eyes bore into the side of her face, seeing as she turned away from him. His mind felt like it was moving a mile a minute as he tried to process what she’d just said. Not ever coming back? The mere thought of not seeing Delilah’s stupid face ever again set an uncomfortable nerve off in his chest.

“Where are you going, may I ask?”

She barely missed a beat as she looked back at his coffee brown eyes, “home.”

“Home,” Tom muttered to himself. If she was going home, why would that make her incapable of ever coming back? He wanted to ask, but she seemed to have blocked herself off. She wasn’t giving him anything, he loathed it when she did that. He could feel his temper rising slightly and bit at his cheek, his jaw straining as he turned to the fire.

It was never good when his control slipped. Especially if Delilah was alone with him, Merlin knows what he’d do. Delilah could hold her ground, he knew that. But with no restraints, who knows what could happen? Last time he nearly threw her off a tower. But if he was being honest with himself, would he have let her fall?

And at some point in time, he would’ve.

Delilah watched him carefully, something changed. His aura seemed heavier than usual and the fire was casting shadows on his face, making him seem like a completely different person. She had to ask, if she couldn’t do it now, then when?

“Can I ask something else?”

Rolling his shoulders slightly, he walked over to a cabinet in the far corner and brought out two glasses and a thing of fire whiskey. “Even if I say no, you’ll still ask,” he then waved the bottle at her in question. She glared at him but nodded.

She watched as he poured two glasses, the amber liquid flooding the cups, shining like tree sap. He walked over and sat on the couch adjacent to her, offering Delilah the glass. The alcohol wafted towards her and made her nose tingle.

After a moment, Tom staring at her as if she was some rare art piece an archeologist dug up, she cleared her throat and downed the glass. She needed some liquid courage for what she was about to say.

Welcoming the burn, she set the glass down and grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey, pouring herself a generous amount. Tom raised a brow but didn’t comment on the matter.

She twitched her nose before willing herself to look at him. “What’s the Knights of Walpurgis?”

An odd feeling shot it’s way up his spine but he didn’t let his expression waver. How the hell did she even know that name? She’s asked about Xan and Katerina before, but never brought up the name of his little group. But as soon as he opened his mouth, she pointed at him with the hand holding her glass.

“And don’t you dare lie to me or I swear to god I’ll smash that fucking bottle over your head.”


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

“I know the name,” Tom said carefully, watching as she downed yet another glass of alcohol. Delilah reached for the bottle and filled the cup, raising a brow at him to continue. Rolling his eyes, his sipped his whiskey more leisurely, “but I don’t know who they are.”

“Really?” She hummed, resting her elbows on her knees as she observed him critically, trying to read him. Though why she even tried was questionable, Tom Riddle was never easy to read. “I don’t believe you.”

Sighing slightly through his parted lips, he downed his own glass before nipping the bottle from her fingers to refill it. “Well that’s a shame, would you like to look inside my head to see if I’m lying?” He nearly laughed when she perked up at the suggestion.

“That was a joke, Pontmercy.”

“You don’t joke,” Delilah said flatly, a warmness was spreading through her chest, shooting up into her head and down into her stomach. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was a part of this little society or what not?” His eyes seemed to latch onto her blue ones, making the rest of the room spin, but Tom alone remaining in focus.

Shaking her head, Delilah took another drink as she pondered over his question. “No, no it wouldn’t make me feel better.” Grabbing her wand, she made a couple of ice cubes fall into her glass before pouring some more whiskey. She wasn’t thinking straight, the heat of the fire and the boy next to her were making everything feel fuzzy.

“In fact,” she waved the bottle at him lazily, the liquid sloshing inside with her movement. “I’d probably kill you in a very creative way if it turns out you were involved.”

“Oh, you would?” He lounged back on the couch, draping one arm over the back, his eyes trailed along her pale legs.

Delilah didn’t seem to notice as she continued to ramble, “yes I would. Though I wouldn’t be happy about it, I like you, though only sometimes. Killing people takes a certain preparation,” her words weren’t slurred, but her accent was bending a bit.

Tom bit at his cheek and tilted his head, “what would you know about killing someone?” Flashbacks of the night he killed his father rang in his mind, but he shook his head and trained his focus on the blonde in front of him. Delilah shrugged halfheartedly, her own mind going back to the faceless Death Eaters she’s killed in order to save her own skin.

“I know you have to mean it.”

He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee while his free hand ran through his hair. Delilah shrunk into the chair at the look he was giving her, he was holding nothing back from his gaze like he always did.

He seemed shocked.

And he was. Tom was suddenly seeing her in an entirely new light. “Delilah have you used the killing curse?” He watched as she rubbed at her nose before downing her drink, he should probably take the bottle away from her soon.

“Yeah,” she said it so simply and he raised a brow. Rolling her eyes, she snatched the bottle from him and began to pour another glass, an idiotic move on her part. “Why?” He pressed, to hell with tiptoeing around the question.

“We’re in a war, it was either my life or theirs.” Delilah may be nearing the edge of drunkenness but she wasn’t completely out of her wits. She kept her response vague enough, though it was a bit depressing for her to think about how time was repeating itself.

She left one war just to be greeted by another.

“Were Grindelwald’s men after you?” Tom said after a moment, finishing his whiskey and setting the glass down in order to control his temptation to pour another one.

“Not me specifically, but I was in their way.”

He didn’t believe her but didn’t want to press, seeing as he successfully diverted the conversation away from the Knights of Walpurgis. He’d have to speak to the boys about being more careful.

Delilah suddenly shot up and ran over to the record player that was partly hidden behind a bookshelf. “Where are your records?” She asked excitedly and he watched from his spot on the couch as she looked around the room in a half frenzy. It wasn’t his record player, it was Casey’s; the head girl. And she had a dreadful taste in music. So one day all her vinyls ‘disappeared’, she was rather heartbroken.

“There aren’t any, it’s merely for decoration.”

A pout met her lips and Delilah glared at the record player, “well that blows. Though I wouldn’t expect you to have anything by Queen.” She smiled when she saw his brows furrow, “who?”

“Only one of the best bands in the entirety of human existence, though their muggle, so you wouldn’t give them the time of day.” And they didn’t exist yet, so there was that. Her alcohol infused brain suddenly came up with an idea. And if she were sober, Delilah would surely smack herself.

“How about I sing you a song!”

A near wince left Tom as he grabbed his glass, fuck ignoring his temptation. “Don’t, you sound like a dying cat.” She waved off his plea and began to do a version of an air guitar, dancing her way back towards the fireplace.

“Time don't mean a thing when you're by my side, please stay awhile,” Delilah was singing with her best impression of Freddie, completely oblivious to the glare Tom was sending her way. “Please do shut up, the head girl is sleeping.” He gestured to Casey’s door, but Delilah had her eyes closed as she spun in a circle. “You know I never could foresee the future years.”

Tom considered making her shut up with a jinx, but the sight of her prancing around like an idiot was admittedly amusing. Merlin knows that if she remembered this tomorrow, she’d be humiliated. That thought alone put a smirk on his face.

Whirling around to face Tom, she blew her hair out of her face and grabbed her glass. “But will we be together forever? What will be my love, can't you see that I just don't know.” She stumbled a bit as she spun, but merely laughed as she slumped against the back of the chair, her eyes shining due to being under the influence.

“I can hear the music in the darkness-“

“Merlin you sound dreadful,” Tom cut her off and she raised her arms in an over exaggerated shrug. “Personally I think the frog choir would be lucky to have me.”

Thankfully however, she slid over the armrest of the couch, her legs dangling off the side. Tom did his best to ignore how her head was laying mere inches from his lap.

Seeing as she’s calmed down a bit, though was clearly drunk, Tom saw an opportunity and snatched it by its neck. “What are you going to do when you get back home?”

Resting her glass on her stomach, Delilah stared up at the high ceiling, her eyes trailing along the wooden beams. “I’m gonna tackle my brother in the biggest hug,” she then tilted her head back slightly to look up at Tom. “The last time we spoke we had an argument, it was rather dumb but I miss his stupid face.”

Tapping his knee with a finger for a moment, he considered asking her any of the numerous questions he had bottled up. With her being loaded on alcohol, could he get some truth out of her for once? Shifting his dark eyes onto her, she didn’t shy away.

It was an odd perspective, her laying down and looking up at him. 

“Are you sure you don’t know any of Malfoy’s relatives?” Tom kept thinking about that platinum blonde haired boy he saw in her memory, he looked so much like Abraxas and she even called him Malfoy.

“Yeah, course I do. Draco, an utter ass but he’s alright.” An alarm went off in her head, telling her she needs to shut the hell up, but it was faint and drowned out by the sound of her heartbeat. 

Furrowing his brows, Tom went over all of Malfoy’s relatives in his head, but he couldn’t recall anyone by the name of Draco. “Who?” She waved him off dismissively, “oh you wouldn’t know him, he hasn’t been born yet.”

Was she pulling his leg? He bit his cheek for a moment, “... what?” 

There was a brief pause before Delilah’s face contorted into one of amusement, a burst of laughter left her lips. “Look at your face! Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Delilah-“

“I like it when you call me that,” utter nonsense was spewing out of her mouth without her consent. Alcohol was never her friend, which is usually why she steered away from it. Tom placed his elbow on back of the couch and rested his chin in his palm, looking down at her.

“You like it when I call you by your name?” 

She nodded and fumbled with her nightie, “what were you gonna ask?” Delilah could feel her cheeks burning up, she felt like an idiotic schoolgirl.

Peppermint and petrichor swirled around him, mixing with the smell of whisky, making him feel like he was in an odd state of limbo. “Why won’t you be able to come back when you go home?”

A long breath passed her lips and she sat up, tucking her legs beneath her. Tom and Delilah were practically pressed next to each other. He felt a weight drop around them, her royal blue eyes growing more dark like a night sky.

“Can I have a cigarette?” Her question slightly took him off guard, but nonetheless he dug into his pocket for a moment before drawing out the silver cigarette box. Delilah smiled slightly at the sight of it, seeing as she gave it to him. She half expected for Tom to just throw it in a cupboard somewhere.

Handing it to her, she placed it between her lips but didn’t light it.

“I need to get back.”

“Why?”

“They all think I’m dead.”

There was a brief pause as Tom trailed his fingers lightly over the engravings on the box, his brain quickly registering what she said. “Why? And why would that mean you never came back?”

Delilah rolled her eyes, “imagine if you thought I was dead?” She then lightly punched him on the shoulder with a broad smile on her lips. “Admit it, your life would be sufferably boring without me.” 

That may be, but his life would get a hell of a lot easier. Though, did he want an easier life? One without Delilah in it did seem incredibly dull. Tom thought back to her initial question, what would he do if Delilah was killed?

At that thought he furrowed his brow and she waved her empty glass at him, but he shook his head, “that’s probably not best.” Huffing, she grabbed the bottle herself, pouring a bit too much.

She took a long sip before resting her head on his shoulder. Tom stiffened but didn’t move. His body became a block of ice, yet he felt on fire all at once.

Handing him back his cigarette, he placed it between his own lips and snapped his fingers, heating her face up for a moment. Turning her head slightly so she could rest her cheek on his shoulder, Delilah watched as smoke poured out of his mouth. 

“You’re a very curious person.” She mumbled, her warm breath fanned his neck.

“You’re like a coin,” she giggled and he turned his head to look at her, the smoke heating up her face. “Meaning?”

“You’re two faced.” She then gasped and hit his chest. “You’re like Harvey Dent! Oh it’s perfect. You’re just like him! One side of you is pretty okay, that side of you doesn’t bother me that much. But the other half of you is all over the place. Mental. And wants me dead.”

“I don’t want you dead.”

The words left his mouth before he could register them. Damn fire whiskey, usually he was able to handle his liquor better. So why was this time different? He didn’t feel intoxicated, just slightly tipsy.

Delilah snorted and took another drink. “Yeah, okay.” 

He grabbed the glass from her and set it down, “that’s enough.” She went to reach for it again but he grabbed her arm, tugging her up none too gently. “Off to bed you go.”

“I’m not a child.” She huffed, shaking out of his grasp but ended up stumbling when she tried to walk.

“You’re acting like one.”

She glared at him but continued to sway in place, the room was tilting at odd angles. 

He looked at the clock, it was fairly late and two drunk students wouldn’t be too grand if caught, especially since he’s head boy.

Tom looked over at Casey’s door, she was probably asleep, he then looked towards his room. He knew it would be the proper thing to do to offer Delilah the bed. But if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to sleep in it till he stripped the sheets. He didn’t need a repeat of the Leaky Cauldron. His bed ended up smelling so strongly of Delilah he couldn’t get any rest.

“You can sleep on the couch.” 

“Oh what a gentlemen,” she slurred but made her way back to the couch, throwing her body on it. He didn’t miss the way she eyed the fire whiskey, so before he left the room he strode over and snatched the bottle away.

“I’ll fetch you a blanket and pillow, behave.” He set her with his usual ‘head boy bravado’ and Delilah waved a hand at him in annoyance.

“Yeah okay, _dad_.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he made a quick trip to his room and grabbed the spare blanket on his bed and a pillow from the cabinet.

Walking back into the common room, Delilah already looked passed out and he huffed slightly. Nearing Delilah, he knelt down and cupped the back of her head, lifting it up to slide the pillow underneath, her mess of curls felt soft on his palm.

He laid the blanket over Delilah halfheartedly, so it failed to cover her sufficiently. He was still crouched down as he watched her sleep for a moment, taking in the way her features fell naturally. She looked at peace for once.

“Tom?” She mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Hm?” 

“Xan and Katerina, d-did you do that do them?”

“Do you think I did?”

There was a beat of silence, he nearly thought she passed out, but she shrugged slightly.

“I hope not, because I won’t know what to do if you did.”

Then with a yawn she fell asleep.

His mind went back to their conversation. Each new fact he learned about her was like a small piece in an extremely complicated jigsaw puzzle that made up Delilah Pontmercy.

“Draco Malfoy?” He muttered, biting at his cheek. He’d have to ask Abraxas about this Draco boy, seeing as he’s never mentioned him before.

And why did her family think she’s dead? Tom was annoyed at himself for not getting that out of her.

He then thought about her leaving, leaving him, for good. He clenched his hands until his nails made bloody crescents appear in his palms. 

She couldn’t leave. He still hasn’t figured her out yet. He needed more time.

______________________________________________

There was a vastness of what seemed like eternity in front of her, just over the edge of the cliff. The dirt had a rough softness against her feet. The air felt damp and thunder rumbled somewhere in the heavens.

Turning, Delilah saw Hogwarts in the distance, standing tall and daunting, but something was wrong.

“Lilah.”

Tom was standing next to her, his eyes trained on the cliffs edge. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He then looked at her, his face smooth but...

Were his eyes red?

“Look,” he took hold of Delilah’s chin and made her face the cliff. A shiver ran down her spine when his finger trailed along her jaw as he moved to stand directly behind her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck, “look.”

Her royal blue eyes took in the heavy smog laying beyond the edge. How far or how deep it was, was unknown. The fog seemed to be alive, it looked as if it was breathing, calling to her.

“Go to it.” Tom’s hand trailed from her jaw to rest on her lower back, guiding her forward. Delilah felt her pulse spike when her feet hit the edge, dirt falling down into the abyss. But she didn’t feel nervous, or scared.

Reaching out a hand, the fog swirled around her fingers and she smiled. “What is it?” looking at him then, his expression was odd. He almost seemed blurred, but his crimson eyes remained resolutely clear.

They almost looked familiar.

“An illusion,” He said simply, turning away from her before she could look closer. Bending down, he picked up a stone and threw it. “It’s not real.”

Furrowing her brows, she looked back at the fog. How could it not be real?

“But it’s of your creation, Lilah. And it’s stunning.” He took hold of her hand then, running a thumb over her knuckles.

“I created this?” His hand felt natural in her hold, like they were made from the same mold.

“Don’t you hear it?”

Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and nodded. It sounded like her heartbeat, “I hear it.”

“So go to it,” Tom’s voice sounded much closer, but she was suddenly afraid to open her eyes.

Brushing a stray piece of golden hair from her face, he walked back behind her and rested his lips against the curve of her neck.

“Jump.”

“What-“

There was a sudden shove to her back, sending Delilah over the edge of the cliff and into the fog.

A scream never left her lips, there was no need. She suddenly became enveloped in a sense of familiarity and security. And she wasn’t falling, but she wasn’t flying either.

The dense fog seemed to be supporting her, slowly turning her in the air as if there was no gravity. Delilah simply floated there.

She turned her head back towards the cliff, but it was gone. Her sense of direction was gone, bleak gray dominated her environment.

Feeling her pulse spike again, she looked up and the sky suddenly erupted. There was a resounding boom and the fog shattered as if it was glass, falling around her and cutting into her skin. 

Just as a scream left her lips, Delilah turned her body away from the sky.

She merely blinked before she registered how her feet felt wet. Looking around, she was down by the Great Lake. Her shoes held in one hand as she splashed her feet in the water.

A laugh left her lips at the feeling of the warm summer water. Turning, she found Tom lounging on a rock, his own feet dipped in the lake.

He held a smile and waved at her, his eyes shining crimson against the reflection of the water. “Be careful,” he called, gesturing to the slippery rocks along the shore.

“Relax, I’m always careful.”

And then she tripped, the world spinning as black suddenly enveloped her.

The last thing she heard was Tom shouting her name, the sound of his voice muffled by the water. It felt warm on her skin, and she felt that sense of calmness wash over her again.

She wanted this to happen, she wanted to fall this time.

But all too soon, the water became like a thousand needles poking into every nerve, turning her body into a block of ice. Delilah went rigid, to the point where she couldn’t move.

The weight of this new change caused her to sink further into the depths of the lake, the sunlight dimming with each second.

The moment Delilah hit the floor of the lake she came to, a dull ache shot up her spine before a pounding began in her head. With a slight groan, she pulled the blanket towards her and rolled over, only to end up letting out a yelp as she felt her body fall from the couch.

Delilah shot up, making her vision swim and her headache worsen. Rubbing at her temples, she looked around the room in a brief moment of confusion before she realized where she was.

She couldn’t remember much, but somewhere in her brain she recalled dancing and singing like a complete idiot. Wincing in her own embarrassment, she prayed Tom got shit faced enough to forget that.

It was relatively dark outside, so it must’ve been early morning. Looking to Tom’s door, it was shut and she could only assume he was still asleep.

Thank Merlin. 

Burnt wood, parchment, and cigarettes danced around her, almost like fresh spring air. She looked down at the blanket tangled around her body, his pillow also smelled painfully like him.

But that pain seemed to dull the one in her head.

With a sigh, Delilah carefully got up, her balance only swaying slightly. As she folded the blanket, her eyes kept shooting towards Tom’s door, making sure it stayed shut.

What the hell was that dream?

Grabbing her wand off the floor, Delilah’s socked feet carried her across the room silently as she left the common room. She made her way back to the dungeons, but as she rubbed at her head, a trip to the infirmary sounded like the smart move.

Was Madame Fontaine even up? Delilah tried to focus on the large clock at the end of the hallway, but the numbers kept swirling around into incomprehensible squiggles.

Nonetheless she needed some sort of potion to help with her hangover. Lifting a hand, she absentmindedly touched her neck, she could almost feel where Tom’s lips had laid in her dream.

She then grimaced, “stupid self conscious.”

When she got to the hospital wing, Delilah knocked twice before she heard a muffled voice. A few seconds later the door swung open, revealing Madame Fontaine in her night robes. 

“Merlin, what’ve you done this time?” The woman’s eyes ran over her quickly and she waved a hand. “Nothing, I’ve just got a bloody hangover.”

Madame Fontaine huffed but seemed clearly relieved Delilah wasn’t on the brink of death for once. “Drinking on school grounds, hm?” She shook her head in disapproval, motioning for Delilah to follow her.

She dug in her cabinet for a moment before grabbing a potion bottle, the lighting was too dim and she couldn’t see the label properly. Nonetheless, when the healer gave it to her, Delilah downed it before giving out a spluttering cough. 

“That shit’s fucking disgusting.”

Her profanity earned a glare and she smiled slightly. “Sorry, and thank you.” Wiping at her mouth, she began to walk towards the door but Madam Fontaine told her to wait a moment.

Rubbing at her eyes, they felt dry but she couldn’t get the image of crimson pools out of her head.

Where had she seen those eyes before? That was going to annoy her to death if she didn’t figure that out. They weren’t Tom’s eyes, yet they looked strangely normal on him. Maybe it was just her drunken mind fucking with her.

That dream in total was just weird.

Madame Fontaine came back out of her office and threw a black robe at Delilah. “Put that on, you can’t be walking around the castle in that small thing.”

Frowning, Delilah looked down at her nightie. It wasn’t too revealing, though she partly forgot the forties were a bit more reserved. A blush filled her cheeks then, she spent the entire night in front of Tom in this ‘small thing’.

______________________________________________

Deciding to grab an early breakfast, she headed down to the Great Hall. It was relatively empty, considering it was Saturday morning. Coffee is what she wanted, her appetite hasn’t really came back ever since Christmas holiday.

As she walked through the two large oaken doors, her eyes landed instantly on the auburn haired man sitting at the staff table. Her coffee could wait, Delilah made a beeline for Dumbledore and he smiled at her over his goblet.

“Good morning, Miss Pontmercy.”

“Morning Professor,” she messed with a golden strand of her hair as she looked around. The only other teacher at the table was the Care for Magical Creatures Professor, and he seemed half asleep in his porridge. 

“Can I talk to you? Privately if that’s alright, or we can wait till later.”

He looked at her over his spectacles, a knowing tilt to his lips. “I fear if we postpone a meeting till later you might burst and do something reckless.” Taking one last sip from his goblet, he stood up from his chair and Delilah grinned. 

“Me? Reckless? Never.”

As they walked down the main aisle, he waved a hand to one of the tables, “might as well grab that coffee you wanted.” She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t question how he knew what she initially came there for.

Blowing the steam away from the rim of her mug, Delilah followed Dumbledore to his classroom. She’d offered to help him grade papers, seeing as she had nothing else to do since it was the weekend. Studying for exams wasn’t really needed either. One; she knew the material. Two; it didn’t matter if she bombed the test, she wasn’t staying in this time long enough for her scores to matter.

Dumbledore conjured a comfortable chair for her to sit in front of his desk, a large stack of essays greeting them.

Once he separated them by years, giving Delilah the third years’ essays, he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” He grabbed a quill and his eyes scanned the first essay, marking what he saw necessary along the way. 

Setting her mug down in exchange for grabbing her own quill, she began to scan the essay in front of her. “When will this ‘plan’ of yours be set in motion? I’ve been invited to go to France with the boys this summer, but I need to know if I’ll even be around.”

When she got no response, Delilah looked up from her essay with an eyebrow raised, her hand reaching for her mug for a much needed drink. The smile he was giving her was odd, she didn’t like it.

“How splendid! This really is convenient I must say,” he chuckled lightly and grabbed the next roll of parchment. “What’s convenient?” She asked, lifting the mug to her lips, the heat from the liquid warming her cheeks.

“Take the boys with you.”

And she choked on her coffee, getting it slightly splattered over a poor thirteen year olds half assed transfigurations essay. “I beg your pardon?” Hitting her chest as she cleared her throat, Delilah stared at him as if he had two heads.

“I assume you’ll be staying in London for a few days, go then. And bring either Mr. Malfoy, Rosier, or Leststrange. Their parents are Ministry officials, you can get in.”

Had he suddenly gone fucking mental?

Dumbledore must’ve read her expression easily, folding his hands on the table and his pleased smile dropped slightly. “I feel you’re seeing this whole mission as much more complicated than it actually appears to be.”

Now she was annoyed, her cheek twitching slightly and she raised a hand to mess with her necklace. “Sir, this is the Ministry we’re talking about. If I get caught... and if my friends end up getting punished because of this? Are you really expecting me to drag them into this, when they have no idea why we’re even breaking in, in the first place?”

There was a long pause, and a sigh left his crooked nose. She froze then, she knew that look, painfully well.

Shaking her head, Delilah picked up her quill again and began marking the essay. “No. I’ve lied to them about many things, but not this. They don’t deserve that.”

“Miss Meddows.”

The use of her actual name made her tense up, her grip tightening on her quill. Glancing up, she was greeted by his twinkling eyes. 

“I understand the emotionally difficultly of lying to loved ones, _trust me_ , I do.” Rubbing at his eyes, Delilah suddenly saw his age fall heavy on his shoulders. “But this very well may be the safest, and best guarantee of getting you home.”

“And,” he waved a rolled up essay at her, “when’s the last time you’ve heard of a Malfoy being punished for illegal activities?”

Delilah bit at her cheek, he did have a point, which irked her. Money did tend to cover up whatever dirty business a Malfoy was into.

Abraxas could get her into the Ministry easily, she had no doubt about that. But the Department of Mysteries? That was a whole other level of law breaking. 

_____________________________________________

Cain twirled his engagement ring around his finger as they walked, absentmindedly humming along with the tune Pyrrhus was whistling. Elio was drumming on his legs lightly, counting the paintings as they went down the hall.

All three of them completely oblivious to the boy trailing behind them, looking as if he was about to throttle someone over the head. 

“Will you three shut up?” Abraxas suddenly snapped, causing the boys to whirl around confused. “What’s wrong with you, mate?” Elio asked with an eyebrow raised, just now taking in his friends disheveled appearance. 

Circles resided under his eyes, the purple looking stark against his pale skin. His usually styled hair was also a mess and his uniform was askew.

“She fucking knows, that’s was wrong.” Abraxas rubbed at his head, messing his hair up even more. The boys all shared a confused glance, “who knows what?” Cain said slowly, not being able to piece any information together in his head.

“Delilah, she knows about... you know,” He gestured to his back. Elio simply furrowed his brows in confusion, but frowned when he noticed Pyrrhus and Cain had paled, looking as if they’ve been petrified.

A chill suddenly shot through his body, an ache he was all too familiar with and he rubbed at his eyes so hard until spots appeared. “What happened?” He asked with a sigh, looking at his best friends expectantly.

When none of them would meet his gaze, their eyes focused on the stone floor, Elio suddenly felt sick. 

“What the fuck did you do?” 

It was obviously bad, and the fact that Delilah had found out about it? “Hello?” He waved his hands impatiently in front of their faces, even taking to slapping Abraxas on the cheek.

A thought suddenly sprang into his mind, making him want to punch someone. If whatever they did was this bad, and Delilah had found out, did she think he was involved?

The need to know what they were talking about grew exponentially, but just as he opened his mouth, someone came towards them.

Of course, Elio thought.

Tom scanned them over quickly, nearly rolling his eyes when he realized an argument was about to unfold. He didn’t have time for such petty things.

“Meeting. Now.”

Elio tensed his jaw as he watched Tom turn on his heel, he found the back of his head extremely appealing as a punchbag at the moment.

Pyrrhus let out a dry cough to break the silence, digging his hand in his blazers pocket and pulling out a flask. After taking a swig, he handed it to Abraxas before following after Tom.

The platinum blonde haired boy also took a drink before passing it to Cain, who drank a generous amount. He went to hand it to Elio but froze midway with the way he was glaring at him. 

“Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

Letting out a sigh, Cain patted Elio on the back before gesturing for them to start following the others. “Later, I promise.”

Snatching the flask from him, Elio downed the rest and welcomed the burn from whatever foreign alcohol Pyrrhus had put in it.

They were the last to walk into the head boy and girl’s common room, Tom already sitting in his make shift throne of an armchair. The longer Elio looked at him, the more he realized something was off.

Tom looked distracted for once.

His eyes kept trailing between the record player and the couch, back and forth, not really focusing on anything else. Elio was about to ask him what the boys were so freaked out over, but Pyrrhus quickly cut him off before a word could be uttered.

“We found out something at the Yule Ball.”

Pale green eyes glared at him, but Pyrrhus ignored him pointedly, staring at the ashes in the fireplace.

There was a beat of silence before Tom gestured for him to continue. “There was a man, maybe only a few years older than us, he said there was something in the Ministry that might help us track Grindelwald’s movements, as it’s happening in real time.”

Biting at his cheek, Tom tilted his head slightly as he looked at Pyrrhus through narrowed eyes. “And you’re deciding to tell me this now?” It was nearing the last days of January, and he was annoyed they’ve been idiotic enough to put off telling him what might be useful information. 

He simply sighed through his nose, tapping a finger on the armrest as he watched Pyrrhus’ jugular move with a gulp. “What’s this object called, then?”

“We don’t know.”

“What does it look like?”

Pyrrhus and Elio shared a glance, “we don’t know that either,” Elio muttered.

“Lovely, did he at least specify where at in the Ministry?” Tom said dryly, feeling his temper spike.

A nervous laugh passed the boys lips and he scratched at his head, sharing yet another glance with Elio. “The um, Department of Mysteries.”

Fantastic, Tom mused. He loved a challenge.

“Well, gentlemen, looks like we’re making a detour to the Ministry this summer.”

“But how will we get in?” Abraxas asked, he was leaned against the mantle, hands in his pockets, his expression strained.

Tom bit at his cheek, physically getting into the Ministry would be child’s play. But he’s heard the level of security at the Department of Mysteries was heavy, and Ministry officials had to have a high level of clearance to even have access.

Clearance he knew for a fact Malfoy, Rosier, nor Lestrange’s parents had.

“Who was this man?”

“We don’t know.”

“Do we know if he’s reliable?”

“...no.”

Merlin’s sake, he was about to tear one of their fucking heads off.

____________________________________________

Delilah sat up in bed late that night, her mind reeling at how she could ask the boys to take her to Ministry without them asking too many questions. She also needed to find a safe way, a way for her to break away from them at some point so they wouldn’t be tangled in her mess if the plan went south. 

How would she even get into the department of mysteries?

She’s done it before.

But that was in a completely different scenario, half of the workers were corrupt and too focused on keeping an eye out on Harry. 

“What would Riddle do?” Delilah muttered as she laid her head on her pillow. He was conniving enough, surely he’d have some clever scheme with numerous back up plans.

____________________________________________

The next day, Delilah’s attempt at building up the courage to ask Tom was shattered by the devil himself. 

They were in the library, and just so happened to stumble upon one another whilst browsing titles. Delilah was glancing at the book spines, but not actually reading any.

Currently her eyes were narrowed into a glare as Tom whistled the song ‘You and I’, a means to mock her for her embarrassing drunken actions.

Deciding she’s had enough of his taunting, Delilah flipped him off and waved it around, making his lips nearly tilt in amusement. “Now that you’ve had your fun,” She ground out, ignoring the way he looked as he leaned against the bookshelf with his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m actually able to go with you this summer.”

Tom raised a brow, what about that whole ‘family business’ spew she was going on about? And how they thought she was dead. He couldn’t very well ask her, he wasn’t even sure if she remembered telling him that.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, Delilah could be incredibly useful for the little stunt the boys and him were planning to pull at the Ministry. She was always up to do something reckless. He then hummed, and she didn’t miss the pleased expression that flickered across his face.

“This is actually quite convenient.”

Delilah tilted her head back to look up at him, “Yeah... it’s convenient for me too.” They looked at each other for a moment, not daring to give anything away.

“Why is it convenient for you?” She asked. There’s a long pause, both of them held blank faces.

He might as well just come out with it, he’d have to tell her at some point. He couldn’t just drag her along to the Ministry and expect her to cooperate, Merlin knows she’d throw a fit or something.

Little did Tom know, nearly the exact same thing was running through Delilah’s head at the moment.

Then at the same time they spoke, “I need to break into the Ministry.” 

Delilah’s eyes widened as Tom narrowed his, confused with the sudden turn of events.

“Why do you need to break into the Ministry?” Delilah asked, aghast with the luck that just so happened to fall in front of her. If he was already planning on breaking in, lord knows why, this might go a lot smoother than she expected.

“Why do _you_ need to break into the Ministry?” Tom shot back, trying to piece together why on earth she would need to break in. What could be more important to her than returning to her family?

She clenched her jaw, “so you’re not gonna tell me?”

“Are you going to tell me why you want to break into a government building?”

She bit at her thumb and huffed. “Touché. When will we be leaving?”

“Right after graduation would be best,” he began, taking an absentminded step closer to her. “But we’ll be going to France first for a little while to get a decent plan drawn together.”

“What? You don’t already have something planned out?”

Tom narrowed his eyes slightly at her and pushed away from the shelf, bending his head down slightly to look her in the eye. “Oh I’m sorry my darling, do you have something already prepared to get us in?” He didn’t hold back the smirk as he watched her lips press into a thin line.

Little did Tom know he was helping her find a way to get home, when that’s the exact opposite of what he wanted.

“Breaking into the Ministry? How exciting.” They whirled around only to find Aleksander smiling at them, his grin mischievous.

Tom raised his wand to obliviate him, really it was idiotic on his part for discussing this in the library of all places. Aleksander raised his hands quickly, a pointless shield against a spell, “wait! I can help.”

Tom was about to wipe his memory anyway, but Delilah grabbed his hand and lowered his wand, “How?”

“My brother, he works at the Ministry.”

Tom and Delilah shared a glance, “where does he work?”

“Department of Mysteries I think, why?”

There’s a pause, Delilah scratching at the back of her neck as she restrained a relieved smile. This was falling together way easier than she could’ve ever hoped for. 

Maybe just this once, luck was on her side.

Aleksander’s eyes suddenly widened as he looked between the two, “Is that where you need to get in?”

Delilah bit at her cheek but stopped herself, realizing that it’s something Tom does. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Well what do you need to get?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Tom said flatly, he never liked Aleksander, and he probably never would, even if he did prove himself useful for once.

Aleksander looked at Tom incredulously, “do you want my help or not? I’m providing you a way in, but I kind of need a good reason to convince my brother to let a group of teenagers break into the British Ministry of Magic.”

“He has a good point,” she muttered to Tom and he waved his hand at her passively. 

He looked Aleksander over, and at the mere thought of having to spend an entire summer with him made Tom’s skin itch slightly. But nonetheless, if he could get them in, he’d have to deal with it.

Besides, he could just obliviate him afterwards. 

“Why help us?” He asked, Tom didn’t trust Aleksander farther than he could throw him. The boy shrugged, sending a not so discreet wink to Delilah.

“A group of teens fresh out of school planing to do a very illegal heist from the Ministry? Sounds like fun.” Tom didn’t miss the new flush to Delilah’s cheeks.

He really didn’t like Aleksander. “Fun?” Tom said slowly, his eyes narrowed.

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and began to walk away, “fine, if you don’t want my help-“

“Wait,” Delilah quickly said, throwing a slight glare at Tom. What was up with him? He’d gone rigid, she could see the tension in his neck.

“We’d be incredibly thankful if you helped us, wouldn’t we?” She nudged Tom on the shoulder and he dragged his eyes to hers, his face a deadpan bemused expression. “Wouldn’t we?” Delilah said through closed teeth, raising both brows at him.

Not really, Tom thought.

He then smiled at her, that charming smile he usually threw at people to get what he wanted, and it completely knocked the wind out of her lungs. He turned his coffee colored eyes on the boy in front of them, who too, looked a bit taken aback by Tom’s sudden shift. 

“Yes, we’d be irrevocably thankful, Eques.”


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, Delilah was playing a rather tedious game of trying to understand how chess worked. She’d sat there dumbfounded as Septimus tried to explain it to her, but she gave up and thought she ought to just watch.

So currently she was observing Aleksander and Septimus play, both focused and extremely well versed in the game. Part of her knew Weasley would win, he was related to Ron after all.

And Merlin was that boy ridiculously good at chess.

As expected, Septimus won. He wore a subtlety cocky grin as he stood up and stretched. “Well this has been fun, but I’m afraid I have some studying to get to.”

Delilah snorted, trying to picture Ron studying by choice. Septimus raised a brow at her but she waved a hand, “sorry, you just reminded me of someone.”

“Who?”

Her eyes danced along the freckles that scattered his cheeks, his fiery red hair, and his crooked smile, “an old friend.”

After he left, she turned to Aleksander, a million questions running through her head. He was sitting on the floor, leaned against the couch and he gestured to the spot next to him. He barely missed a beat, the moment she sat down next to him, his arm was slung over her shoulders.

“Go on and spit it out,” he grinned at her, making Delilah’s cheeks heat up slightly, they were oddly close. “Spit what out?” Her brow was raised and she pretended to reach for a book, a weak attempt at getting some space between them.

“You’ve got questions, I can see it in your eyes. You’re not as good at hiding things as you think you are.”

That statement rested on her shoulders uneasily, but she simply cleared her throat as she craned her neck towards him. He was strangely attractive, but his looks seemed made up, in a sense. Like that of a model.

Tom’s beauty was more natural.

Delilah grimaced at her thoughts, shaking her head and focusing as much as she could on the boy in front of her. “Aleksander-“

“Alek, please.” His lips always seemed to be pulled into a small grin, something that was rather charming but gave off the aura of concealed mischief. “Alek,” Delilah said slowly, trying the name out on her tongue.

“Tell me about your brother, has he responded to your owl yet?”

“What owl?”

She stared at him pointedly, not amused in the slightest and he let out a dry laugh. “No he has yet to respond, it’s only been three days, he’s usually slow with these sorts of things. I’d expect a response in a day or two, don’t worry.” He plucked a chess piece off the board, rolling it between his fingers as his eyes became unfocused for a moment.

“He’s a down right arse though, so him willing to help us is a fifty-fifty shot, I don’t want you getting your hopes up,” Alek nudged her lightly in the side, his grin slowly slipping from his lips. Delilah knew that look all too well, “family trouble?”

“Do you have an older sibling?”

After her nod, he sighed slightly through his nose, his dark eyes focused on the chess piece in hand; the King. “Well, being eldest comes with a certain narcissism, apparently. And being the youngest means you always get compared. Then eventually it gets to a certain point where you purposely want to screw up, sort of as a “fuck you” to mum and dad.” He set the piece down on the board, watching the way the figure moved.

“That’s sort of where I am right now, my reckless phase. I’m tired of living in his shadow.” With a flick of his finger, the King fell over and he looked at her, a genuine smile tilting at his lips. “I want to do something myself, something for myself, something monumental.”

Humming in understanding, Delilah twirled her necklace between her fingers. “Well when you put it like that, I’ve apparently been in my reckless phase for eighteen years now,” they shared a glance before breaking into a small fit of laughter. She didn’t know Alek too well, but from the time she spent with him, she’s enjoyed herself.

“You’re going to have to teach me French before summer gets here,” he mused, watching how the sunlight through the large windows caught in her golden hair. “Sure, but how’d you know I spoke French?” Alek shrugged slightly and he tugged on one of her stray curls playfully.

“One of the girls told me, Olive’s her name, I think?” There was a slight flush to his cheeks then and he scratched the back of his neck. “Anyway,”

“Wait a minute,” she held up a hand, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at him. “Alek do you… do you fancy Olive?”

His brows furrowed and he shook his head, a little too quickly in her opinion. “What? No. Where’d you get that idea?” He was obviously flustered so she didn’t push the subject further, but Delilah sat back with a knowing smile on her lips.

____________________________________

It took Delilah nearly ten minutes to work up the courage to go and talk to him. The only reason why she was currently speed walking through the library to get to him is because he started to pack his things.

Taking a breath once she reached him, his back turned to her as he shoved his scrolls inside his satchel, Delilah tapped his shoulder, “Elio?”

If anyone could tell her the truth, it would be him.

He whirled around, a surprised look on his face before he settled his expression into something more neutral. “Evening, Del,” his tone was polite but something was still off. He just didn’t feel the same, being around him didn’t feel like it used to, it nearly felt forced.

Clearing her throat, she scratched at the back of her neck, “evening, um.” She trailed, not knowing exactly how to start this conversation. In truth, Delilah wanted to find a way to ask him without bringing up Tom, but part of her knew that was impossible. 

Raising a brow expectantly, Elio shifted on his feet as he waited for her to say whatever she was trying to piece together in her head. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Delilah realized there would be no easy way to tiptoe around this.

“Do you know what happened with Xan and Katerina. And were the boys involved?” The look on his face was completely unphased, he simply registered the question before shrugging. “No, they get caught shagging or something,” he grinned slightly in amusement, but it fell once he saw the dark glimmer of seriousness in her eyes.

“So you know nothing about…” She trailed and gestured to her back.

Elio suddenly went stiff, he recognized that gesture. That was the same thing Abraxas had done when he told the boys Delilah had found out about… “shit.”

Delilah’s eyes widened, her heart picking up its pace, “so you do know?”

Grinding his teeth together to the point where his jaw ached, Elio slung his bag over his shoulder, “no, people tend to like to keep me in the dark. Why don’t you ask Riddle, since he seems to tell you everything?” He snapped, making Delilah lean back slightly, her brows slightly raised.

“Sorry,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. Pulling his hand away, a flash of of silver caught his eye and he smiled slightly; his necklace was still hanging around her neck.

“I’ve asked him, three times. And he’s somehow managed to avoid ever giving me a proper answer. Merlin I’m an idiot, how does he do that?”

“He’s the heir of Slytherin, that’s how,” Elio muttered.

“What?”

“Never mind, he’s just painfully conniving.” There was a brief moment of silence before he gestured for them to start walking, Delilah easily falling in step with him. “Wait, so you don’t know what happened?” She spoke slowly, watching his profile carefully.

Running a hand through his hair, Elio shook his head and let out a huff. “No, but I’m assuming it’s bad if it made Abraxas look that guilty.”

Delilah froze then, her muscles going rigid and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

Abraxas had lied to her. Right to her face, and he didn’t even blink.

Did that mean Pyrrhus and Cain were also involved?

And Merlin, that absolute fucker.

Elio hadn’t noticed she’d stopped walking until a few moments later. Looking over his shoulder, his brows furrowed at the expression on her face. “Delilah?”

“I’m going to kill him.” Her voice was steel as she stalked forward and took hold of Elio’s arm, dragging him into the nearest empty classroom. The lack of sarcasm in her tone was a bit concerning, “kill who?”

“Riddle. God I’m such an idiot! Three times! Three fucking times! Maybe even four, who knows? And he- fucking hell,” she slammed the door shut and cast a silencing charm. At the complete cluelessness written over Elio’s face, Delilah sighed and her nose twitched slightly.

“They branded them, Elio. Branded.”

He paled then and tugged at his tie, loosening it as much as he could. Feeling suffocated all the sudden, but there was a fire building up his spine, setting off his nerves in a sleeping inferno. “What did they write?”

Elio’s tone was stiff and Delilah eyed him warily. He looked torn between either passing out or ripping someone’s head off.

The disappointment she felt in the boys probably didn’t even compare to what he was feeling. Elio’s known them for years, they’ve grown up together, they were brothers. Part of her was scared to tell him, but she knew she had to.

“A multitude of things, Blood traitor, mudblood, and,” she took a deep breath, hoping to god what she was about to say next would mean nothing to him. “On Katerina’s back, ‘Property of the Knights of Walpurgis’ was-“

Delilah jumped to the side as Elio suddenly stalked towards the door, throwing it open with a wave of his wand. She merely blinked before following after him, all her questions about where he was going and what the Knights were appeared to be falling on deaf ears.

But once he turned down one hall, Delilah’s blood ran cold. She knew exactly where they were heading. 

“Wait, Elio we don’t even know if it was them! They never told you anything-“

He spun on his heel, making Delilah collide with his chest and stagger back slightly. She’s never seen him so furious. “Seriously, Delilah? I know you don’t want it to be true but face it, this isn’t even the first awful thing they’ve done.”

Her brows furrowed, what did that mean? A thought occurred to her, did that mean Elio was in the Knights of Walpurgis? No. He couldn’t be, if he was he’d know about Xan and Kat already. Elio stormed off again, his fists clenched at his sides and she struggled to keep up with him.

The moment the head boy and girl’s door was in his sights, he threw it open, making a few students in the hall raise their brows. Delilah’s own eyes widened, realizing what sort of confrontation was about to be held. Hurrying after Elio, she was just able to shut the door and place a silencing spell when all hell broke loose. 

Just after she turned around, she witnessed a fist flying through the air and landing on Abraxas’ jaw. The platinum haired boy gaped at his friend, not having the slightest idea as to why he was so pissed. “Elio? What the hell?”

“What is wrong with you?” His voice was raised, but he wasn’t yelling. Nonetheless, nobody had ever seen him like this, causing the boys to stare at him cautiously and curiously.

There are three things all wise men fear; the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.

Delilah had pressed her back to the door, trying her best to stay out of it as she watched Elio’s chest rise and fall rapidly. But the new weight behind her eyes nearly felt painful as she looked at them all. Her friends, the boys whom she was growing to love. They actually branded someone.

Disappointment.

That’s what she was feeling, and it made her heart ache slightly as her eyes landed on Pyrrhus. It was extremely difficult to comprehend how he could do something like this. Nearly two months ago she was having to wipe away his tears as he was drunk in a bathtub, heartbroken over a break up.

And Abraxas, he- what was she expecting? Delilah knew he was one of the first death eaters. She just subconsciously decided to ignore that fact. Or maybe she tried to convince herself otherwise. Making herself focus on the boy she knew now, or thought she knew. The boy who pulled her into the room of requirement and poured his heart out about a girl he loved.

Shifting her eyes to Cain, it was just so unusual to picture him being cruel. He usually kept to himself, but the love that glowed from his eyes when he looked at his fiancé was something incredibly rare. Delilah’s only seen that look a handful of times.

Finally, her eyes landed on Tom, and she didn’t know what to think.

He was sitting on his chair as if it was a throne, a look of disinterest in his eyes as he watched Abraxas’ jaw grow slightly red. 

Abraxas’ own gaze shifted between Delilah and Elio for a second more his shoulders dropped. “Shit, listen Elio-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence, because instead, a hiss of pain left his lips.

Elio had grabbed his tie, yanking him forward and right into his fist. His knuckles colliding with Abraxas’ nose with a crack.

Pyrrhus rushed forward, hooking his hands under Elio’s arms to tug him away from landing another hit. “What if that was Aurora, hm? Not too far off considering what her house is and blood status.”

Abraxas suddenly tensed, about to fire back, but someone cut them off.

“Enough,” Tom bit out, his hand absentmindedly twirling his wand. Elio yanked out of Pyrrhus’ hold and spun around to face him, his features contorted due to anger. Delilah almost didn’t recognize him, was all this under the surface the entire time?

Then something shifted, Elio’s face become stone as his eyes rested on Tom. “Since today seems like the day of revealing things not meant to be told,” his voice was sharp and it sounded like a stranger. “How about that day Delilah mysteriously fell ill after your little trip to the woods, hm? How ‘bout it?”

Delilah furrowed her brows, what was he talking about? “I thought you said I got food poisoning or something.”

Elio whirled around, a slight crazed smile on his lips. Everyone in the room came to realize he had finally cracked. “Oh no, definitely not food poisoning, this fucker,” he waved a hand at Tom, who had suddenly gone eerily still. His eyes burning, his jaw clenched. “Rosier, enough.”

“No,” his voice was nearing a shout. “I am sick of you. I’m sick of the mind games. I’m sick of the emotional manipulation. We are not chess pieces you can move around on a board whenever you feel like it!”

Delilah’s mind was moving so quickly she could barely register her own thoughts.

“How about we also tell her what really happened fifth year? Oh what a clever trick that was, fooled the whole bloody school! You paraded yourself around like a hero. Even got yourself a shiny award, Tom Riddle, savior of the day. Tell that to Myrtle.” 

Delilah felt a pounding start at the back of her skull as she tried to remember that day, the last thing she could recall was Tom giving her that rose.

And what about fifth year? Isn’t that when he said he got Hagrid expelled? And Myrtle? Did he mean Moaning Myrtle? “What are you talking about? What happened?” But she wasn’t heard over Elio.

“The things you make us do, what you make us feel like we have to do.”

“Rosier, I advise you to stop talking.” Tom’s voice became that of ice, the kind that burned when touched. Abraxas and the other boys tensed, taking a small step forward if they needed to come to Elio’s aid. They’ve seen that look on Tom before, and it ended very poorly.

“And I advise you to start listening, my lord.” Elio stepped towards Tom, his fear forgotten and clouded by well over a year of built up anger.

Tom visibly tensed at the name, his eyes darting to Delilah quickly before shifting them back on the boy he looked like he was about to kill. And he just might, his hand that was twirling his wand froze. 

Delilah’s head spun, what did he mean ‘my lord?’ What the fuck is happening? That ache in her head grew a tad bit stronger. 

“Cain what are they talking about,” Delilah tugged on his arm but he shrugged her off, his attention solely focused on the two. He had no doubt in his mind that a cruciatus curse might go flying around, and if it got to it, possibly even something much more deadly.

There was a flash of red inside her mind, her head began to ache terribly as a memory tried to prod its way to the surface.

Pale green eyes danced between the dark pools of Tom’s. “I am tired of you taking whatever you want, whenever you see fit. No matter who it harms in the end. Just because you’re the heir doesn’t mean you can own whatever catches your eye. Object and person alike. You’re not entitled to a damn thing, yet you act like you are.”

There was a beat of silence and Tom was just about to flick his wand when Elio sighed and stepped away, rubbing at his face. “I’m exhausted, truly. And I’ve had enough.”

He turned and looked at Delilah, “Go on and ask him, ask him why he dragged you back from the woods unconscious, and had Dumbledore and Madame Fontaine brought to the Manor. You were passed out on a table in the kitchen, you looked like you were about to die.”

Delilah paled, her brain scrambling to try to put the pieces together, but she couldn’t and a new sense of fear ran up her back as her gaze turned to Tom.

“What happened?”

“Leave, all of you.” His words were directed at the boys, but his eyes remained solely focused on Delilah.

When no one moved, his gaze suddenly turned furious as he looked at them all.

“ _Now!_ ” 

It was a rare thing to hear Tom yell, it caused all of them to flinch except for Delilah. No, her confusion clouded her rationality. If she was in her right state of mind, she’d also know to get the hell out of there.

The boys scrambled and made to leave, sparring her abrupt glances of worry. Elio however spared a long look at Tom before shaking his head, taking his time to leave. He stopped when his shoulder met Delilah’s and he leaned down slightly, “be careful,” he muttered.

A moment later the sound of the door shutting met her ears, and they were alone. 

Tom sighed and started towards his room, Delilah following after him without a second missed. The pounding in her head was so loud, and she tugged at her hair, a pressure was building behind her eyes. 

“What happened?” She asked again, her annoyance morphing into anger as she saw him roll his shoulders, as if this whole ordeal was nothing but a simple inconvenience.

But something was wrong, he wasn’t looking at her, in fact he was actively avoiding doing so. 

“What did you do?”

He wasn’t speaking and he dug into his pocket, he needed a cigarette. In fact for the first time he nearly felt desperate for one. Tom Riddle and desperation were two things that should never be placed together, but there he was.

As soon as she saw the glint of silver her teeth gritted. He was not getting out of answering her this time. With a wave of her hand, the cigarette box went hurtling across the room and hit the wall so hard the stone cracked.

And he did nothing but pinch the bridge of his nose.

She tried to focus on her memory, so hard, but nothing except for the shadow of what might’ve been her on the ground was partially clear.

“Answer me!” The scream tore through her throat, shattering the silence around them as if it was fragile glass and he tensed, the muscles in his back straining. “I truly don’t think you want to know.”

“Bullshit.”

What could be so bad that he of all people wouldn’t tell her. What the fuck happened to her? And the thought that he had something to do with it? Her mind spun.

“Why was I unconscious when you took me back to the manor? Why did I look half dead? Why was Dumbledore there?” As soon as the last question left her mouth, she went rigid.

Dumbledore knew and never told her?

Tom rubbed at his face before finally turning to look at her. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, he wouldn’t allow himself to, but he was afraid. That was new. Tom was never afraid. What would she do when he told her? She’d be angry, furious no doubt.

But to what extent? 

He expected screaming, probably a physical reaction as well. Tom wouldn’t be surprised if she started throwing hexes at him.

But what would be the long term effect of this apparent ‘betrayal’ and over stepping of boundaries. Would she ever talk to him again? Would she just pack up and leave, never turning her back. What about the Ministry plan? Would that be thrown out the window?

If he was in her shoes, he’d probably kill him. Anyone who would dare meddle with not only his memories, but his mind overall was a dead man walking. 

Which he realized was a bit hypocritical considering how many minds he’s fucked with, including the blonde standing in front of him.

”The day we went out to look at the statues, we started to walk into the woods. We talked about the Yule Ball and you told me about some muggle case of two American students,” he began, his mind scrambling for a decent way to put this together. 

Even if he worded it as vaguely as possible, she’d still be livid. “Then you yelled at me,” he forced dry amusement into his tone, hoping this would somehow lessen the blow that was about to be fired.

He bit his cheek then as he recalled the events of that day, “then I gave you a rose, a white one. I had picked up a twig to mess with, I was just twirling it absentmindedly, and when I looked down it was a white rose. I had transfigured it without realizing. The thorns had cut you and I cleaned them, then you said you knew something else about the Deathly Hallows.”

Something happened to her then that hadn’t happened in a long time, she cracked, the memory rushing forward almost painfully.

She remembered how his grip on her arm was so tight it hurt. How she yanked her arm out of his hold, only resulting in her falling to the ground. She recalled scrambling away from him as he stalked towards her slowly, like an animal going in for the kill. Delilah remembered screaming and then- she paled.

He had used legilimency on her.

Relief at Tom not finding anything of particular use was clouded by her fury. Then she remembered the pain, and the blood. Blood was everywhere, filling her lungs and clouding her vision in a mess of crimson tears.

“How dare you.”

She spoke slowly, her voice shaking only slightly.

Tom knew this would happen at some point, but it didn’t mean he was ready. He’s never seen her this... he didn’t even know. Was emotional the right word? She looked like she was going to rain fire on whatever she set her eyes on. All just to kill him

And she just might try, considering she’s used the killing curse before.

She then crossed the room in what seemed like no time at all, placing two hands on his chest and shoving him harshly, making him stagger back and hit the bookshelf.

Books toppled to the floor as the shelf rattled, the wood dug painfully into the spot between his shoulder blades as she shoved him again when he tried to step forward.

“How dare you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Delilah-“

She went to step away, turning her back on him. The very thing he was scared of her doing. On blind impulse, Tom reached out and took hold of her wrist. 

“Get off me.”

“Please just listen,“

“Don’t touch me.” He tried to grab her again, which made Delilah twist her arm and yank it out of his grip, causing her skin to burn and flush red.

“If I would’ve known something as bad as you nearly bleeding out to death was going to happen I would’ve never even done it in the first place.” 

Her eyes widened in not only disbelief, but frustration, and Delilah shoved him harshly into the bookshelf again.

“That’s not the bloody point! You had no right, even if I didn’t start choking on my own blood, you had absolutely no jurisdiction to look inside my head. My thoughts are _mine_ and I am entitled to them, not you, not Dumbledore, not anyone.” 

Delilah couldn’t breathe, so much was happening, she was realizing so much. Even Dumbledore made himself appear to have a right to look at her memories.

Her ears began to ring and her skin felt hot, she couldn’t even look at him. With a slight scoff, Delilah turned to leave, but with a wave of Tom’s hand the door slammed shut, making the wood rattle on its hinges.

“Riddle let me out now.”

“Listen to me,” he began again, his voice raising in agitation, which only pissed her off further. “Why should I? Let me the fuck out,” she tried to unlock the door with numerous spells, but nothing was working. So in a fit of desperation, she started to hit and throw kicks at the door, oblivious to the pain shooting up her limbs with each blow.

”Delilah,” he needed to fix this, and quickly.

Just the other day she wished, hoped even, he’d start calling her by her name. But now the mere sound of it coming from his mouth set a fire off raging her veins.

Delilah whirled around, firing the first spell to come to mind. His body was thrown back due to an invisible blow to his chest, his back hitting the post on his bed before he fell to his knees. A sharp pain shot through his side, but he ignored it with a clench of his jaw and stood up slowly. 

“Are you done?” That was the wrong thing to say, which he came to quickly realize as her wrist flicked, sending a scorching wave of blue tinted fire towards him. Throwing up a defense, it wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been and the wooden post of his bed caught fire. Quickly putting it out, he was just barely able to block her next spell.

Biting her cheek, Delilah caught sight of the books on the floor to her left in her peripheral vision and the fireplace on her right. 

Barely flicking her wand, she sent the books hurtling at him. While he was distracted with that, she turned her focus to the fireplace, tearing it apart brick by brick.

At the sound of what appeared to be grinding stone, Tom turned and was barely able to register what was happening. The fireplace crumbled as the heavy stone bricks hovered in the air for a moment, before spinning and turning into sharp daggers. 

His eyes widened slightly as Delilah gestured forward, and they came shooting towards him. Tom crumbled them with ease, but she sent what appeared to be a more controlled version of sectumsempra. 

Hissing at a sudden sting in his leg, Tom looked down to find a deep laceration across his left calf, blood soaking through his pants. The incantation to heal wounds from that spell was slightly tedious, and he didn’t exactly have time to even begin it when she sent a gust of wind at him, making his feet slide back across the door, attempting to knock him off his balance.

“Delilah this is ridiculous,” he shouted over the whistle of air that was pushing him this way and that. She lowered her wand then, her expression so stiff she almost appeared to look like one of those statues she adored so much. 

“Ridiculous?” she said incredulously.

“Yes, we should talk this out like civil people,” he stopped short when a bark of dry laughter left her lips. “Civil? Are you joking? Riddle you are the least civil person I know.”

Before he could utter a word, she pressed her hands together and muttered something so quietly that only her lips gave any indication she was speaking.

The runic spell she was currently casting was something she had only done once before, because afterwards it left her utterly exhausted. But with her vexation and adrenaline mixing together, she didn’t think twice when she started to murmur the incantation.

He stepped back cautiously when the room suddenly became heavy, almost suffocating as energy charged the air around them. A dim purple glow started to weave its way around her, almost like it was alive, dancing between her fingers and in her hair.

His brows furrowed, completely fascinated and distracted by the curious sight in front of him. He’s never seen magic like that before. “What are you doing?“

Delilah’s head raised and her eyes seemed to be glowing such a bright blue they almost seemed white, she then pushed her hands out, and the magic that was tangled and bonded so tightly around her suddenly exploded.

The shockwave of the miniature explosion sent him hurtling back, his skull slamming into the wall with a loud crack as his body collided with the hard stone. He squeezed his eyes shut and a slight groan left his lips as he fell to the floor painfully, gripping at the back of his head he felt something warm and wet.

Delilah dropped her hands to her sides, the dim purple glow still cracking around her fingers as she slowly walked forward. 

“Civility is something beyond your comprehension.”

Pulling his hand away from his head, his fingers shone with crimson and he looked up at her, his vision tilting this way and that. He must’ve gotten a concussion. She watched as he tried to stand up, but his blood covered hand slipped on the floor and his head must’ve been spinning so much that his balance quickly gave out, sending him back to the floor. He landed on his side and the wind was knocked out of him, he had a cracked rib.

“Nearly hurtling me off a tower to my death?” She ground out as he tried to reach for his wand, but with a simple gesture of her hand, it flew into her grasp. 

She wasn’t letting him get away this time, she wasn’t going to let him defend himself. The odds were in her favor now.

Tom gaped at her slightly, not really being able to believe what was in front of him. For one, he’s never seen magic like this before. And new things always did fascinate him. And two, Delilah had warped into a completely different person. Someone much more powerful, much more deadly, and much less forgiving.

“Cutting into people’s skin and marking them as property?”

As he went to sit up, Delilah raised her free hand and dragged him up against the wall. Tom choked out slightly due to the invisible grip around his throat that was slowly starting to tighten.

“Intruding into my mind, which is private, and mine alone? Even after you saw me visibly crawling to get away from you?”

Pressure increased on his throat and his hands flew up, clawing at nothing but his own flesh. Delilah watched apathetically as his watering eyes bulged and he began to choke. She was about to fire another wave when something caught her attention. 

There was a cut above his right eye, the blood from the wound had dripped dangerously close, nearly getting into his waterline. Her dream from the other night suddenly shot forward.

Shaking her furiously, she sent another wave at him since her grip had loosened, pushing him painfully into the stone. His ears were ringing and his focus kept going in and out, he wasn’t full on suffocating either but his chest was heaving due to hyperventilation.

The light from the curling magic reflected in his dark eyes, making them practically shine red due to the reflection of his own blood. Delilah suddenly went stiff as the dream finally shoved its way forward again.

Those red eyes that seemed so familiar. 

That tingling she’s gotten every once in awhile since she arrived in this time grew stronger, though it turned into something more painful. Her vision went white for a moment as that ache suddenly exploded. Causing her focus to drop from Tom and he slid to the floor the second her hold released him.

Blood trailed on the wall from his head and he fell on his side, spluttering out wet coughs and there was something warm and metallic on his tongue.

A memory from sixth year popped into her head, making her tug at her hair since the image wouldn’t go away. It was similar to what one may experience when using a pensive.

____________________________________

She sat in the Great Hall next to Luna, her other housemates chatting loudly around her. The voices of students rebounded off the walls as people greeted their friends and asked about their summer.

Dumbledore walked up to the golden owl podium then, effectively making the room quiet almost instantly. Though a few whispers were heard here and there.

“Now as you know, each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight. And you have the right to know why.” He began ominously, his eyes twinkling due to the candle light behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Once there was a young man, who like you, sat in this very hall, walked this very castles corridors, slept under its roofs. He seemed to all the world, a student like any other. His name… Tom Riddle.”

Whispers erupted around the hall, everyone turning to a friend with a question on their lips. Delilah looked at Luna, “ever heard of him?” Her dreamy eyed friend shook her head, that always pleasant smile on her lips. “No, I haven’t. Though he has a funny name, doesn’t he?” Her voice held its typical airiness, being nearly drowned out by the hall of students.

“Today is course,” Dumbledore started, gaining everyone’s attention yet again, all eyes expecting an answer to their questions. “He’s known all over the world by another name. Which is why I stand, looking out upon you all tonight. I’m reminded of a sobering fact. Everyday, every hour, this very minute perhaps, dark forces try to penetrate this castle’s walls.”

His eyes swept over the students before landing directly on Delilah, who shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat. Why was he looking at her like that?

“But in the end, their greatest weapon is you… just something to think about.”

____________________________________

Delilah froze, Tom’s own wand pointing at his heaving chest, she had raised it without realizing. 

_No._

He can’t be. He can’t be. He can’t be.

But there it was, Dumbledore had flat out told her exactly who he was in her sixth year. Even gave her a fucking warning.

“God please no,” she choked out, staggering away from him, accidentally tripping on the rug in the process and landing painfully on the wooden floor.

Tom spluttered out a cough, he could taste blood on his tongue and he held his aching side as he sat up on one elbow. Delilah flinched at the simple action, and a frown tugged at his lips. Why the sudden shift? She was nearly about to kill him. He was trying to find something to say, but his mind was muddled.

How does one even apologize for something like what he’s done? Tom never apologized in the first place, but this time, he realized, it seemed vital.

But for Delilah, an apology from him was the very last thing on her mind.

He put all of his effort into focusing on her blurry figure, but once his vision came to, he stiffened. Her eyes were so wide and had gone crystalline, staring directly at him. Her lips slightly parted and she was shaking an awful lot. 

“Delilah?”

His voice snapped her out of her shock and she scrambled up and away from him, pressing her back into the wall, trying to put as much distance between them.

She even considered possibly jumping out the window.

Of course, of all people, it had to be him.

She raised her hands to tug at her hair, her head was pounding and everything sounded as if it was underwater. But as she lifted her hand, her eyes froze on the wand she was holding.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was nearly a wail and she dropped the wand as if it burned her.

She’s seen that wand before. It had been pointed at her numerous times, and not once with good intentions from the owner.

Tom Riddle is, or soon will be, Lord Voldemort.

He was going to murder Harry’s parents, he would be the cause of Cedric’s death, of Sirius’, of Moody’s, of Dumbledore’s, and so many countless others.

And he was going to kill her one day, too.

He already has.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit just went down, huh?


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Tom began to stand up, his world tilting at dangerous angles due to his apparent concussion.

Bolting for the door, Delilah tugged at the handle for a moment before she remembered he’d slammed it shut with wards. Throwing numerous spells at the blasted piece of wood, it wouldn’t budge.

Getting up to his feet, Tom held his aching side and leaned heavily against his bed, his throat feeling like sandpaper as he tried to speak.

“Just wait a moment.”

She continued her assault on the door, trying to ignore his voice the best she could. Feeling suffocated by being in the same room as him.

She could hear her own heart screaming in her ears, making them ring painfully. Her rib cage felt too tight around her lungs. Pricks of needles could be felt digging into her back. Inside her shoes, Delilah’s feet tingled as if they’d fallen asleep. The corners of her vision began to fade in and out.

“Delilah please just look at me.”

A bile rose to her throat, she couldn’t look at him, she just couldn’t. Because she was afraid that if she did, she’d see _him_.

Not being able to take being near Tom any longer, she stepped back and aimed her wand at the wall next to the door, “reducto.” Her voice was no higher than a trembling whisper, and the wall exploded, leaving a gaping hole leading into the common room.

His eyes widened and he went to grab onto her, but before he could move she bolted through her makeshift exit.

“Delilah!-“ Tom’s yell was cut off by his own wet cough, turning his head to spit out blood that had risen to his mouth.

She was gone, the common room door slamming shut behind her with a rattle.

Shutting his eyes tightly, both at the pain and the awful turn of events, a wince left him as he shifted his weight. The burn in his side felt like a knife was digging its way around, in search for something it’d never find.

Merlin, he’d really fucked up this time.

Locating his wand underneath a chunk of stone, Tom limped slightly as he made his way over. Summoning it to his hand, his fist as well as his jaw clenched. He didn’t heal himself right away, he took in the burn, letting the pain simmer for awhile longer.

Because for the first time, he knew he deserved it.

After about fifteen minutes of him breathing heavily, the aches growing worse with each passing second, he raised his wand and got to work.

But something was wrong.

His wounds were healing at an alarmingly slow rate, the whole process being much more tedious than usual. Whatever magic she had used was causing healing himself to take longer.

A small laugh left his lips, making his ribs hurt but he didn’t mind, “clever girl.”

_________________________________

Delilah had shoved more than one person out of the way as she sprinted through the halls of the castle, a look of fright on her face, oblivious to the questioning glances thrown her way.

As soon as the door was in her sights, her fist pounded into the wood without a care of how loud she was being. Moments later the door flew open to reveal a curious and alert Dumbledore, who then frowned at the sight of her.

Delilah didn’t wait for him to let her in, she practically threw herself passed him. Her chest was heaving, she knew she was breathing but it felt as if no air was getting in.

He closed the door and watched her for a moment, analyzing the situation in front of him. Her fingers were wound tightly in her hair and she paced back and forth, sitting down for a moment before shooting back up. She couldn’t keep still.

“Delilah, I need you to-“

Shaking her head violently, Delilah pointed a finger at him. “Don’t. Don’t say that to me. I,” her mouth felt painfully dry as her throat closed up, making it hard for her to speak. Taking a deep breath through her nose, the air burned and felt as if it’d make her bleed. She had every right to be freaking out.

Hunching herself over a desk, her fingers curling around the wooden edges painfully, she tried to steady her breathing. “Sir, he- he’s- I can’t be here. Not with him.” She sniffed, stood up straight and righted her features before turning to look at Dumbledore. 

Curious how good she was at doing that, acting like she was suddenly okay. Most would expect some tears in such a state, but her eyes weren’t even glossy.

Coming to think of it, he’s never seen her cry.

He was still by the door, his glasses were pushed down to the tip of his nose as he watched her with a frown on his lips. “Not with who?” he finally asked, walking over to his desk and summoning a chair and some tea, pouring a steaming cup before offering it to her.

Letting the warmth through the china seep into her palms, Delilah kept telling herself she’d calmed down. But her legs were still shaking and her skin itched. How the hell was she supposed to tell him without giving anything away?

It took her a moment to work up the courage to even say his name, she didn’t want to think about what she just discovered.

Did this mean all of her friends were first generation death eaters? Who’d all see her dead if they knew who she was? Who’d see her friends and family dead?

Raising the steaming cup to her lips, she inhaled the hot air and closed her eyes. “Riddle, I can’t be here with him. No one should, he,” Delilah had to force her mouth shut as she mulled over what words to choose.

Dumbledore sat there patiently, giving her as much time as she needed. He already had questions surrounding Tom’s character, but with Delilah now bringing him up, he wondered if his suspicions were right.

Setting the cup down with trembling hands, Delilah then had to sit on top of them to keep them from moving. “He’s, how do I even put this. What he becomes… millions will be considered collateral damage.”

“We can’t change the future by meddling with the past Miss Meddows-“

“Just me being here is meddling with the past.”

“Yes, however-“

“Sir, he’s the one who killed me.”

His whole body went stiff the moment the words left her mouth. Flashes of her memory he viewed resurfaced, of the creature he saw standing over her in the Ministry, pale and ghastly, eyes gleaming red and slits for nostrils.

An ache so profound settled deep within him, making his whole body feel numb with sorrow. Is that really what Tom becomes? Will he become so enveloped by the allure of the dark, that it leads him so far astray?

Dumbledore thought back to the eighteen year old currently in his transfigurations class. He was just a child, no matter how mature he acted. And he was brilliant, his eyes filled with ambition to be better and to learn and absorb more knowledge than most would ever dream of. 

And he was going to torture and kill the girl currently sitting in front of him. That threw Dumbledore off slightly, he’s seen the way Tom acted around her, how he looked at her. It wasn’t that Delilah had seemed to change him, no, Dumbledore didn’t think anyone could change Tom.

But she did seem to wake something so deeply buried inside him, that it was unrecognizable as himself. But it was, Tom had just hidden it so many years ago he forgot it even existed. 

“How did you piece this together?”

“You. You told me. In my sixth year. Gave me such a clear warning, even his bloody name, and I still didn’t piece it together until now.”

“What did I say?”

Her brows furrowed, thinking he wouldn’t want her to tell him considering the whole spew of undoing the natural line of history. Nonetheless, she recalled the speech he gave back at the beginning of term feast her sixth year. She felt a jab to her heart at remembering that was the last one he’d ever give, considering it was the year he was murdered.

Removing his glasses, Dumbledore rubbed at the corners of his eyes with two fingers, “yes it all makes sense now.”

“What does?” She hated when he did that, he never gave a straight answer, carrying himself cryptically. Although he may do it absentmindedly. “Delilah, this may be hard to hear, however I feel it’s vital that you do anyway. No matter if you don’t understand.”

Her teeth gritted and she sat back in the chair, twirling Elio’s necklace, the pull of the chain around her neck oddly comforting. She wanted to yell at him to spit it out, but his gaze became wary as he looked at her. 

“Mr. Riddle needs to go to the Ministry with you.”

Stiffening for only a moment, she then shot out of her chair, making it fall back and hit the floor. “Are you mental? Did you not just hear me say he fired the fucking killing curse at me?”

“Sit down,” his voice was crisp as he looked at her, his twinkling eyes burning into hers. He waved his hand and the chair was upright again. She wanted to argue, but that would get her nowhere, so begrudgingly she sat.

“Delilah listen to me. He is not… what was it you called him that one time? Ah yes, Voldemort. He is not that monster. Not yet. That creature you saw at the Ministry isn’t the person you know. Voldemort is irrational, brash, and kills without a whim of remorse. That isn’t Tom. You know that. He is just an eighteen year old boy who’s very lost at the moment.”

Biting at her cheek, Delilah shook her head and turned to look out the window. How could she believe what Dumbledore was saying is true? After all she’s seen, after what she’s been through. What he himself has put her through.

Now, and in the future.

“So you’re suggesting we change the entire course of history?”

“No,” he corrected, his eyes sharp. Though there was that underlying glint that he knew something else, something that he wouldn’t tell her. He sighed then, his age suddenly catching up to him in that moment, the late afternoon sun catching in the grays of his auburn hair.

“Mr. Riddle can get you into the Ministry, Delilah. And then you will be well on your way home, the course of time will continue as it was originally laid out.” He tapped his nose and gave her a smile.

“Things will work out better than you might expect, don’t fret.” 

_________________________________

When she left Dumbledore’s office silently fuming, she made a beeline for Ravenclaw tower. She couldn’t bring herself to walk to the dungeons in fear of who’d she’d run into, whether it be the boys or Tom.

After answering the riddle, Delilah frantically looked around the common room before her eyes settled on a familiar face.

“Alek, hey.” She smiled at him the best she could, holding her chin up and her shoulders back, she didn’t need people asking questions.

He returned her smile for a moment before he frowned, “what’s wrong?”

“How did you?- never mind, um, I was wondering if I could maybe stay here awhile? Do you know if there’s any available beds? Maybe even a dorm if I’m lucky?” Scratching at the back of her neck, Delilah looked around to see if she knew any girls her age but came up short.

“Maybe you can room up with Katerina? I don’t think she’d mind.”

A hopeful smile graced her lips, why didn’t she think of that? It was the obvious solution. “Mind if I ask why you want to stay here?” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Aleksander tilted his head to the side in polite interest. Biting at her cheek, she shrugged half heartedly and crossed her own arms. “I had a rather bad revaluation recently, and an argument considering morals and wrong doings.”

“With Riddle?”

Delilah raised a brow at him, he was rather good at piecing things together quickly. Yes, he was a Ravenclaw, but that didn’t make it any less unnerving. Delilah didn’t need the extra stress of Aleksander possibly figuring out something he shouldn’t.

Smiling in understanding, he waved a hand towards the stairs on one side of the common room. “Girls dorm-“

“I know where it is,” she spun around, not aware of her sudden shift to being aloof as she stalked up the stairs. Aleksander watched her go up, his lips tilted slightly in amusement. Delilah never did stop surprising him.

__________________________________

Waking up panting, there was a cool dampness felt on her forehead and she wiped it off in agitation. That was the third time she had woken up in the past two hours, completely shaken and her nerves on high alert.

She hated nightmares, and the past two days they’ve only gotten worse. Memories Delilah thought she had tamed long ago had suddenly broken free from their shackles, coming at her full speed with fangs barred and out for blood.

When she turned towards her nightstand, she froze, Katerina was also sitting up in bed and staring at her wide eyed. A blush rose to her cheeks, hopefully she wasn’t talking in her sleep. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“You were screaming,” Katerina muttered, eyes running over Delilah for a moment to assess her, she was still shaking. 

Feeling herself pale, Delilah cleared her throat and looked at anything else in the room besides her. “Must’ve been a bad dream,” she laughed lightly but her amusement wasn’t met. Katerina’s eyes grew sad and seemed to expand, “those were real screams, Delilah, not the kind that happens when reacting to a work of the imagination.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Delilah laid back down and tried to let herself sink into the soft sheets, but they felt oddly rough against her skin. “I sounded like that when they marked me.” Katerina’s voice echoed around the room and an uneasy weight dropped in Delilah’s stomach.

“It was just a nightmare, a realistic one, go back to sleep.”

Delilah heard a sigh pass the girl’s lips and the ruffles of fabric, meaning she had laid back down. She however, kept her eyes open and stared blankly at the drapery above her.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk, you’re not alone, even if you want to be.”

Delilah didn’t answer, she didn’t know how. She didn’t want to be alone, did she? Shaking her head, she couldn’t sleep, and part of herself didn’t want to.

So for the next few days she fell into the bad habit of keeping her hours filled with tasks, all to keep her mind preoccupied and to ignore the problems around her. Studying for exams for hours on end even though she didn’t need to. Counting all the paintings and the books in the library. Going down to the kitchens and baking or watching the house elves during meals, she couldn’t bring herself to go to the Great Hall. Walking around the castle, but taking desolate routes to avoid people. Going to the forbidden forest.

And before Delilah knew it, she threw herself into a makeshift reality of isolation.

Four days had passed with not so much as three hours of rest, but she didn’t mind and almost welcomed the light headedness crawling up the back of her skull.

It was better than the psychological pain she would’ve felt if she let her eyes close. If she let herself see the hours of torture she went through at the hand of his followers, and himself. Or the sight of him standing over her, a cruel and decrepit smile on his pale lips as he said the unforgivable so softly it might’ve been a caress.

No, she’d take the exhaustion over that any day.

But alas, on the fifth day when she had sought out asylum in the Room of Requirement, she noticed something was wrong.

Her eyes squinted at the pages of the book she was reading, a study of blood magic, but the words were morphing into a language she couldn’t understand. Delilah’s head felt fuzzy and she shook it irritably, but when she looked up she’d frozen.

The Room of Requirement had suddenly morphed into what looked like a more dim version of the atrium at the Ministry. Delilah stood up from her place on the couch and walked to the foot of the large marble statue, eyes trailing over the sight of muggles holding up a wizard. She then read the words at the base, ‘Magic is Might’.

There was a crack of a missed spell that rebounded on a wall, making it ring all around her. Whirling around, Delilah’s eyes widened at what she was seeing. 

It was herself, in her nice dress robes, red converse pounding against the tile as she ran. Delilah watched as her own eyes lightened at the sight of the Floo Network, a blazing green inferno of promised death glimmering behind her. But then something stepped out of the shadows and she was thrown back with a startled scream. 

Delilah watched as that god forsaken package flew from her grasp. Something glinted through the wrapping, momentarily blinding her, but before she could get a good look she heard a scream. Turning, Delilah saw Voldemort standing over her.

No. She didn’t want to see this.

He twisted his wand, causing her to thrash and her spine bend at an odd angle, making the veins pop out in her throat as she let out a blood curdling scream.

But Delilah couldn’t pull her eyes away from that, that _thing_. Was that really what Tom would become? Standing over her, his crimson eyes apathetic to her suffering.

He tilted the tip of his wand up, momentarily raising her head before slamming it down into the marble flooring. The sound of her skull cracking rebounded off the curved ceiling and Delilah watched herself lose consciousness for a moment. She felt sick, but there was nothing in her system to throw up, she hasn’t eaten in two days. 

“Oh my sincere apologies.” He hissed, making Delilah’s blood run cold at the sound of it. That wasn’t Tom’s voice. His was a low rasp that would carry over a room softly but resolutely, almost like an over roisend bow. “You loathe being considered pathetic, Miss Meddows. Don’t you?”

She paled at the sight of recognition in his eyes as he looked down upon her. “How did you-“ her past self spoke, only to be cut off by him hitting her with another wave of the cruciatus curse.

Delilah staggered back and hit the base of the fountain, staring at him as his anger seemed to take hold, giving her lash after lash of sheer agony. She could only faintly recall those moments, her nervous system had started to give out.

But that wasn’t the reason she was staring at him, no, not at all.

“Please,” she choked out, her body convulsing on the floor. Something odd happened then, he froze, his wand still raised, his chest heaving. But when he bit his cheek, Delilah saw that as a sign he was thinking. She knew that mannerism.

Just as a sigh of relief passed her lips, his eyes shone and there was a flash of green so bright that it made Delilah squint her eyes.

He had recognized her, and he killed her anyway.

Her head spun before she saw what happened next, and she collapsed with the weight of shock and sleep deprivation on her shoulders.

She awoke with a scream, looking around her frantically before she came to realize she was still in the Room of Requirement, slumped over a stack of books uncomfortably.

Did she really just hallucinate?

Her hand rose to the back of her head, but there was nothing there. Merlin, she really needed sleep.

_________________________________

A hand waved in front of her and she blinked a few times, snapping out of her trance. Aleksander was crouching down beside her, a look of worry on his nice features. 

“You alright, love? You’ve been zoned out for,” he looked at his watch and raised a brow, “three hours.” Delilah swallowed, her mouth was awfully dry and she felt exhausted. She’d been replaying what she saw on repeat in her head, trying to piece her mind together into one coherent thought.

“Yeah I’m fine, just been distracted lately with the Ministry plan.” The lie rolled off her tongue easily and he hummed in understanding. “About that,” he began, taking a seat next to her on the rug. “My brother said he can get us into the Department of Mysteries, but actually getting into the Ministry itself is on us. He’ll be waiting at the entrance of the Department. But he needs a time and date… is Riddle still involved in all this?”

She didn’t want him to come, she really didn’t. But Dumbledore thought otherwise. In fact, he seemed rather adamant on Tom joining her. How could the old man be so sure Tom and Voldemort weren’t the same? 

But as she sat and allowed herself to mull over it, and dissect the situation in front of her, there did seem to be a strict dichotomy.

Voldemort is a mad man, not even a man. He’d destroyed that part of himself into something unrecognizable. His love for power became his greatest enemy, and his longing for immortality crushed whatever humanity he had left.

Tom is an eighteen year old boy, who’s incredibly intelligent, charismatic, had an inflated ego, arrogant, stubborn as hell, and he had a terrible temper. And when his control broke, that’s when suggestions of something darker and more dangerous broke through.

But there were moments, moments that separated him from that creature. And by god, Delilah was latching onto those for the life of her, almost as if they were her life line. All to convince herself he wasn’t the thing that killed her and so many others. 

That he really was just a teen boy, in search for something greater yet is completely unaware of how catastrophic that something is.

Delilah latched onto the moments when they would bicker, bouncing ideas or insults off one another, as if they’ve known each other for years and had been able to reach an equilibrium. The moments when they danced together, whether it was on a ballroom floor or in the snow.

When he balanced a wand on his nose just to appease her, or his constant teasing. When he gave her a rose, and healed her cuts.

She knew it wasn’t his fault when she had started to bleed out everywhere. But her anger at him for reading her mind clouded her rationality of that predicament afterward. Delilah could now recollect him coming to her attention the moment she started to show signs something was wrong. 

How he kneeled down at her side and brushed her hair out of her face. And she remembered him sounding worried. Tom Riddle never worried.

She remembered him picking her up, cradling her to his chest and rushing her back to the manor, and he almost looked frightened at the sight of her.

It wasn’t the first time she started bleeding out, but it had never been that severe. 

Then she remembered him cleaning off her blood, and stopping her from hyperventilating. And later on how he protected her during the bombing, and after how he made sure she was okay. How he actually asked. 

That was the person she wanted to believe in. But was any of it real? Was it just a facade to make her trust him? Is Voldemort lingering under the surface right now, waiting to break free?

Nonetheless, he would be helpful, especially if they got into any trouble. He was a very persuasive person.

And perhaps this was a way she could use Tom’s skill for her own gain, and in some complicated way, it was a means to get back at him for all the suffering he has yet to cause.

But in having such a thought, Delilah did a dangerous thing; lying to oneself never ends well. Maybe this was all just an elaborate scheme to convince herself that he wasn’t Voldemort, not yet. That he was just a boy who made all the wrong choices.

And maybe, just maybe, she could help him choose right, at least once.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

_________________________________

Later that evening, Delilah was sat against the bookshelf on the floor, her nose dug in a book when there was a rap on the wood. Looking up, her eyes widened slightly.

“Elio?”

He gave her a slight smile, “Ravenclaw has their own private library? I’m jealous.” He gestured to the spot next to her and she nodded, closing her book and patting the ground. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay, I haven’t seen you all week,” he felt the butterflies in his stomach go into a frenzy when she rested her head on his shoulder. A blush rose to his cheeks as he rested his cheek against her hair, staring straight ahead at the books in front of him. 

Truth is, he was a bit more concerned than he should’ve been, because Tom was acting so odd the past few days. More abnormal than he already was. Elio wanted to ask what happened after he and the boys left, but thought best not to. Seeing as the two of them had gone a bit off the rails.

“I’m fine,” she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to reassure not only him, but herself. Elio dug in his pocket for a moment with his free hand and dropped a bag into her lap. “What’s this?”

“Pepper imps,” he knew those were her favorite, and his heart warmed at the smile she gave him. “Thank you,” she offered him one but he shook his head. “Olive and Lita are asking about you.”

Delilah sighed and rested her head back on Elio’s shoulder, twisting his necklace around absentmindedly. “I should probably head back their soon.” Her eyes trailed over the Ravenclaw common room, with its high windows and charmed ceiling that made it look like the cosmos were in her grasp. It felt like home there, her real home. And when she was alone, she could almost act like everything was normal again. 

Alas, that just wasn’t the case. There were more pressing matters. Such as an aspiring Dark Lord.

“How did this even start?” Delilah partly wondered if him growing up in an orphanage had anything to do with it. But loads of people grow up orphans, that doesn’t mean they all turned out to be raging sociopaths.

“I don’t know,” Elio said truthfully, his voice but a whisper. 

“Riddle is complicated, infuriatingly so. No one knows where he came from. He just popped up out of nowhere, bringing this storm of charm, intellect, and ambition in his wake. I think his curiosity is his weakness, no matter how destructive a thing is, if he finds it fascinating, he’ll stop at nothing to figure it out. That darkness in him... I have no idea where that came from. But one day, it’ll swallow him whole.”

“You don’t think it already has?”

He thought about it for a moment, mulling over the seven years he’s known Tom. But as he looked at Delilah, he thought back to all the times he’s seen the two together, despite how painful it always was. There was a new light in Tom, a light Delilah had seemed to ignite, trying to crack through the abyss of darkness.

“No, no I don’t.”

There was a brief pause before he raised a finger, “now don’t get me wrong. He’s dreadful, and complete shit. But he’s not gone, not yet. God help us when that happens.”

A dry laugh left her lips then as she recalled the future awaiting the wizarding world, “Yeah, god help us all.”

“On a lighter note, one that doesn’t involve Riddle,” Elio began and offered her a grin. “Valentine's day is coming up. Do you want to do something? Something fun, take your mind off things.” Before she could even open her mouth, a deep blush flooded his cheeks and his words tumbled from his lips, “just as friends of course.”

Nudging him in the side, Delilah felt herself genuinely smile for the first time in awhile, “that would be lovely, thank you.” 


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Ticking every few seconds met her ears, her quill tapping the table in sync. She would give anything to go back to Valentine's Day, that was probably the least stressed she's been in months.

Elio had taken her down to Honeydukes and got her a large basket of pepper imps, they also strolled along through the rest of the village and popped into some smaller and less known shops. After that they had dinner in the kitchens and put on a funny little show for the elves.

Delilah had tried to teach Elio a few lines she memorized from Julius Caesar, but it didn't go as well as planned, it looked more like a drunken parody of the play.

But now there she was, stuck in the library working on an essay for a class she didn't care about. Her grades didn't really matter to her at this point. The only classes she tried in was Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfigurations, the latter of which she only tried so as to not disappoint Dumbledore.

The sound of footsteps disrupted the silence of the library. Tearing her eyes away from her half blank parchment, Delilah caught sight of the last person she wanted to be in the same room with.

He muttered a few greetings as he wove his way between tables, all the while Delilah shrunk down in her seat. Hopefully he wouldn't see her, considering the large stack of books acting as a blockade around her table.

After waiting a moment, she peered around the stack and found him sitting at a table about fifteen feet away, his eyes already skimming through a book as he made quick notes.

Delilah let herself observe him, seeing as she rarely got the chance to do so. She analyzed how he acted when he thought no one was watching. His shoulders were a bit more relaxed and his focus was solely trained on what he was reading.

But perhaps he was still acting? Tom rarely ever let his guard down. She never knew when he was being genuine, it was frustrating to think on whether he was a great liar or actor. As she watched him bite his cheek for a moment, she supposed there wasn't really a difference.

What if she got up, right in that moment, and told him what he would become? Would he even listen? Or wave her off as nonsense. Even worse, what if he didn't mind the creature he becomes?

No, she couldn't do that. Doing that would probably be the most idiotic thing she could ever do. That would disrupt the timeline catastrophically.

Nonetheless she couldn't help but wonder; if he knew what the future held, would he change anything?

As she looked back at the clock, it hit her how little time she actually had. She needed to do something to smooth over the little mess that had dropped around her feet before summer arrived.

Rubbing at her eyes in frustration, Delilah took a deep breath before standing up. Standing still for only a moment, having a final mental debate, she forced her way over towards Tom.

As she rounded herself to the back of him, her whole brain kept screaming at her to just turn and run out the door. But before she knew it, her feet stopped about a foot short from his chair.

Now or never.

Twirling her necklace, Delilah cleared her throat, "Riddle."

He visibly stiffened and his eyes froze on the book he was reading, which of all things was The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Straightening his back, Tom slowly turned around, not quite sure if he was hearing things or not. Why on earth would she be speaking to him?

As soon as his face was turned towards her, Delilah looked away, she couldn't bare it. Part of her was scared she'd see crimson in his eyes, even though it was far too early in his timeline.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, Delilah was struggling to find her words and Tom was surprised she was even standing in front of him. He also had the irrational worry that if he so much as blinked, she'd disappear.

Biting her cheek, Delilah wished she could be anywhere but the library. Why wouldn't Dumbledore do this himself? But alas, she knew he couldn't. Tom wouldn't listen to him. "We need to talk."

Looking her over for a brief moment, he nodded and stood up, and Delilah took an instant step back. Tom tried to ignore the odd shift he felt at her action and began to walk down an isle, gesturing for her to follow.

They stopped in a far off corner of the library, before Tom could open his mouth Delilah started, she didn't know how long she could be around him. "Alek's brother can get us in, I'll go over the plan later when we round everyone up. But he needs a date and time. When will we be back from France?" Her words rush out as she picked up a book and flipped through it aimlessly, she couldn't look at him. Not up close.

Tom simply stared at her, both in disbelief and curiosity. She was acting like nothing happened. Well, not completely. Delilah was looking anywhere but at him and she felt stiff, like a glass bubble was around her and she was afraid a sudden movement would shatter it.

"Why?"

Delilah picked up another book, "what?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

He plucked the book out of her hand and shoved it half heartedly on a shelf. "Why are you so..." He didn't know how to put it, which was strange for him. He usually always knew what to say. But when it came to Delilah he seemed to have a loss for words. "You're still coming along? After everything that happened?"

She bit her cheek and nodded while humming a yes. Tom narrowed his eyes, what was wrong with her? "So you're fine?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Delilah."

Why now of all times, did he finally start calling her by her name?

Running her fingers lightly over the titles, she dropped her arm and let out a breath. "Personally, I want to punch the living shit out of you and never look at your stupid face again. But the more rational side of my-"

"You have a rational side? I wasn't aware."

"Shut up."

His lips titled slightly and she hated how easily they fell back into each other.

It shouldn't be this easy.

And in that moment she hated herself. She hated that small part in her chest that missed this. This... this thing that was between them. And she shouldn't.

He should be the last person on earth she should ever miss talking to.

But she did miss it and she hated herself for it. Throughout the past few days Delilah found herself missing the smell of cigarettes, how his hair fell just above his eyes, and his quick wit.

She hated herself so much to the point where it nearly burned because the boy standing in front of her was going to be responsible for so many deaths.

He was the reason Harry didn't have parents.

What would Harry even think if he saw her now? If he saw what she's been doing in this time, mucking about with the creature who wanted him dead. Would Harry even recognize her? Coming to think of it Delilah didn't even recognize herself.

Ever since she's been in the 1940s it's like she became a completely different person. One she wasn't even sure she liked.

But as her eyes glanced over to the other shelf, his form a blur as she did so, she had to accept that Tom didn't even know who Harry was. He wouldn't for many years to come. How can she hold him accountable for something that hasn't even happened?

And in that moment it didn't even matter that Tom was going to be the one to kill her.

She didn't matter. She never did.

It was always Harry, always. Even if Voldemort did recognize her, his endgame was always Harry, Delilah merely got in the way.

She didn't matter. Not to Voldemort, and clearly not to Tom.

And that revelation seemed to numb her to the crushing weight of who he would become. Who he might already be.

She didn't count. She was just another face in his list of soon to be kills. So why did any of this matter? She was nothing to him, and Delilah was going to have to be okay with that if she wanted to go home. She needed him for the Ministry break in. Dumbledore even said so.

If he did recognize her, that did mean she somehow left this time. That meant she left him. And that gave Delilah her final shove.

"I," she began slowly. She really didn't want to say it, but she'd have to, if she did he'd be too arrogant to refuse. Tom was her insurance home. Back to her old self. "I need your help." 

He raised a brow and looked down at her, distracted for only a millisecond by the smudge of ink on her left cheek. "Breaking into the Ministry? I thought this was already settled. We'll leave for France after graduation, and work out the kinks with Eques' brother."

"Yeah, but I thought," Delilah finally looked at him. She was momentarily caught up in the circles under his eyes before she saw the glimmer of confusion. Had he not been sleeping? He's never looked so exhausted. And why was he confused? He was Voldemort. She would think that nearly choking him to death and tossing him about like a rag doll would make him a bit unwilling to aid her.

"Thought what?" His voice cut into her thoughts and she blinked.

"Why are you still willing to help me?" Currently, she didn't trust Tom further than a Giant could throw him.

His confusion only seemed to deepen, and the longer she looked at him, the more prominent the purple under his eyes became.

Tom should be asking her that question.

Why would she of all people want his help? He betrayed her trust, her privacy, their friendship. If they even ever had one. Tom wasn't sure. He never really considered himself to have friends. But he supposed Delilah had fallen into the category of someone he could actually rely on.

That was new for him.

But after what he did? He didn't think she'd ever want to see him again. But low and behold, there she was. Standing right in front of him. Smelling of peppermint, petrichor, and almost what could be resembled as a sea in a storm.

After everything he did, Delilah was still there, _here_ , right in front of him.

She never did stop surprising him.

He couldn't help but be confused with himself, which was foreign territory. Did he really want her there?

Why was he willing to help? Why did he want to? He never helped unless it got him something. Was it as an apology? No, that would be ridiculous. Part of himself was just glad to have her back. Have her around him.

He wouldn't admit it, but refusing her wasn't even a thought that had occurred to mind.

A glimmer of silver caught his eye and Tom nearly grimaced at the sight of Elio's necklace. Delilah caught him staring at it and she dropped her hand, halting her movements and shoving her hands in her pockets.

She couldn't forgive him for what he did to Xan and Kat.

But she also knew she couldn't blame him for something that he hasn't even done yet. Which was beyond difficult to come to terms with. Tom Riddle wasn't responsible for the deaths of thousands.

Voldemort was. That thing was to blame. Not the person standing in front of her.

They both hadn't realized they had been staring at each other for about three minutes until someone else in the library dropped something, the sound of a book hitting the floor echoing off the walls.

Tom looked down at her, his head tilted, biting his cheek, but there was something else.

He never thought he would meet someone so complex and enriching and exciting. No ones ever excited him before. Not since Dumbledore walked into that blasted orphanage and told him he was a wizard.

But Tom didn't fail to recognize how self destructive Delilah was being. The moment she had found out what he'd done, she should've turned and ran the other way. Merlin knows how she would react if she knew the people he's killed, including his own father.

And in a way, he killed his mother too.

Finally Tom spoke, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. "Delilah, I think you should be extremely careful who you give second chances to."

It wasn't a second chance, was it? But maybe subconsciously this is exactly what she wanted.

"I know who I'm giving it to."

"You really don't."

"Trust me, I _really_ do."

"Even after everything I did?" He finally came out with it because he couldn't understand why. Tom didn't like it when he was left clueless. That led to too many bad things happening with no means of preparation.

Delilah screwed her eyes shut. If only he knew how much more complicated this actually was. "No, I... not that. Not ever that. You'll never be forgiven for that."

There was a pause. He felt something jab in his chest at the 'never' but he suppressed it, he knew it was deserved but that didn't mean he wanted to confront the feeling threatening to arise. "Fair enough."

"There's ways you can make amends, though." Maybe this could be the one good deed she could help him with. Just one good choice in his life. It wouldn't necessarily cancel out all the destruction to come, but the act would still be there. He still would've done _something_ right.

Tom raised a brow.

"Look, I know apologizing isn't really your thing. I get that, I do. But do this for me, just this one thing. And maybe, I don't know."

"What?"

"If you do this for me," her hand raised to mess with her necklace, but she froze halfway and dropped her arm. He clearly didn't like when she did that, god knows why.

"Maybe everything will be alright. Everything would fix itself. Me and you, back to the way we were supposed to be. Before anything changed and went wrong... wouldn't that be nice?" Delilah let out a small laugh, but it pained her as she saw genuine relief fill his features. Tom thought she meant back before he ever used legilimency on her, before he marked Xan and Kat.

Delilah meant before she ever met him.

She was a mistake in this timeline, a fluke. She shouldn't be here. She needed to leave. And Tom would start down a path with no return, with no light to guide his way back.

And she'd be thrown right back into another war.

One that he himself started.

"That does sound rather fetching."

What she saw next, growing on his features like a flower in spring, nearly made her double back. Tom Riddle was smiling, actually smiling. 

Not his smirk. Not his stupid looking grin when he got smug. Not his faux one he threw on to sway people. A good, proper smile that was more charming and wonderful than anything she's ever seen.

His features had relaxed into one of someone his age, a simple eighteen year old. Tom's eyes crinkled at the edge and there were slight dimples in his cheeks. His teeth were pearly white but his bottom teeth were slightly crooked, but really that added to it.

And again, a hatred for herself struck like a chord because she found herself loving that smile.

Why couldn't he be somebody else. Anyone else. Someone ordinary, and easy, and not him. Of all of time and creation, of all the people to have or yet to exist. It had to be Tom Riddle.

But of course it had to be. The universe would settle for nothing less. The real monsters never look like monsters, do they? Evil is in the eye of the beholder, and it was staring right at her. In that moment she didn't see evil, however. Anything but. Which made this so difficult.

Looking into those dark eyes of his, it was like she was falling through space and she never knew when she was going to land. She didn't know if she wanted to. 

There was so much more life could offer a person like him, so much more. With his talent, ambition, and charisma. Everyone loved him, if he walked into a room, people's eyes would light up with the want to talk to him. Or even just to be near him. Tom was magnetic in that sense. No one knew whether to be intimidated by his presence or be in awe. Maybe even both.

If he had the right goals in mind, Delilah believed he could've changed the world for good, if he wanted to. People would listen to him, they already do.

But Tom was going to destroy any chance at a life like that. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

Delilah desperately wanted to ask why. Why start such a path? What could've possibly compelled him? What was his initial goal? If he succeeded, what were his plans for after?

But she knew she couldn't. 

"Yes, quite fetching."

__________________________________

"Gentlemen," Her voice rang out through the empty common room, making each boy whirl around in their seats. Each gave her a timid smile and eyed her warily, Elio went to greet her but she held up a hand, halting his movements. 

She might as well just come out with it, there was no need to prolong this conversation. One she didn't even want to have in the first place. "Look, I don't really know what to say that will encompass everything." Delilah gestured with her hands, not knowing what to do with herself as she stood in front of them.

"I'm not gonna ask why, because I won't understand," and she didn't want to. "And I'm not here to forgive you." Pyrrhus went to open his mouth, but with one glance from her he shrunk back slightly. Her eyes were cold.

"But I don't want to go through the rest of my time here, at Hogwarts I mean, alone and hating all of you."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of platinum blonde shift. Abraxas stood up to go and hug her, or simply touch her arm, she didn't know, but Delilah backed away out of instinct and hit the mantle of the fireplace.

"Please don't."

Hurt flashed across his face but he masked it with a smile. Abraxas hated that she was now afraid of him. But little did he know how different everything actually was. He thought it was because of what happened with how he marked Xan's back. Which, she supposed was a part of it. 

But Delilah couldn't help but think of those dreadful months she was kept at his manor, being tortured. He physically had nothing to do with it, she knew that, but his own son and grandson; Lucius and Draco, just stood by and watched as she was treated like an animal. And his damned portrait. Hanging up on the wall, above the bloody scene that was her near demise, stared onward apathetic to her screams.

She knew Abraxas would be a death eater, one of the first. But it was so difficult to comprehend because the Abraxas she knew now seemed incapable. But he was, he'd already done something dreadful. But there and now, she saw regret and remorse. What could've changed? What made him into a monster? He was the man to raise Lucius, after all.

The most painful thing was that she couldn't help. She couldn't help any of them. 

Clearing her throat, Delilah stepped away from the mantle and smoothed down her skirt. "Meet in the Room of Requirement tonight at eleven, Abraxas knows where it is."

The boys watched her go with looks of concern yet slight relief. They never realized how much Delilah had actually impacted them both as a group and individually. She was a heaven sent in a hell bent environment.

_________________________________

Pacing a few times in front of a wall, Pyrrhus’ mouth went slightly slack as a door started to appear from stone in front of Abraxas. “Seven years I’ve been here and no one has bothered to tell me this existed?” He glared at Abraxas but let out a small yelp as Elio pushed him forward.

“What would’ve you used it for? A snogging cupboard?” Cain snickered and quickly jumped to the side, avoiding a hand flying his way.

Their laughter slowly fell away as they entered the room. It was a wide expanse with high ceilings and large windows, letting a pale blue light filter into the room. There were a multitude of dummies lining the walls that were used to practice magic on, as well as a few mats laid out incase anyone got knocked back.

Towards the back of the room were three people, standing in front of a large mirror with numerous clippings adhered.

“Quite the space you’ve got here.” Elio called out and grinned as Delilah whirled around. She gave them a small smile and her eyes flickered around the room. When she asked for a safe place to practice, the room had modeled itself after the area they had used for Dumbledore’s Army.

“Right, now that everyone’s here,” Aleksander clapped his hands together, sending an echo bouncing off the walls. “Here’s the plan-“

“Do you think if I asked for a liquor cupboard it’d just appear?” Pyrrhus muttered, eyes dancing around the room curiously. Aleksander was about to start again, but a delighted laugh left the raven haired boy’s lips as a full on bar appeared on the far left wall.

He turned to his friends but cleared his throat when he saw the look they were giving him. “Now is not the time for your drinking habits, Lestrange,” Tom spoke dryly, making Pyrrhus settle his features and straighten his back. “Right, yes. Sorry. Continue.”

Aleksander looked at him for a moment before cracking a small smile. “Anyway, here’s the main basis of the plan. After we return from France, we’ll need to get into the Ministry no later than nine in the morning. Now simply getting into the atrium won’t be difficult, but getting past basic security and getting to the lift is something else entirely. A group of seven teens isn’t exactly subtle. Which is why only two of us can go down to the level right above the Department of Mysteries. Which is where my brother will be waiting.”

He ignored the two sets of eyes burning into the side of his head. Delilah and Tom’s gaze shot towards him the moment he said only two could go down. No that wouldn’t do at all, for both of their plans. “Why can’t we just go down in intervals, surely that would be discreet enough.”

Aleksander sighed and rubbed at his eyes, “maybe taking the lift, yes. But again, seven teenagers frolicking about in the Department of Mysteries? That’d be idiotic.”

Delilah bit her cheek, he had a point and her mind raced at how to fix this. If only they had Harry’s invisibility cloak. Turning to Tom with a brow raised, a silent way of asking ‘what do you make of this?’ He only glanced at her before gesturing for Aleksander to continue.

“He’ll meet the two who decide to go down, and there he’ll lead you to the Department. He said he’ll stand guard but you’ll only have a window of fifteen minutes to retrieve whatever you need. After that, he’ll take you back up to the lift and see you out.”

There was a brief pause over the group before Abraxas turned towards the boy, “who’s going down?”

“I thought it best I go.”

Tom and Aleksander spoke at the same time and they stared at each other for a moment. “Well that settles it, Tom and I-“

“No.” Delilah cut in, trying her best to keep it together. She needed a way to work around this whole ‘only two’ people being able to go down. “I’m coming. It was he and I who originally even planned this out.” She gestured to Tom and he nodded his head once, “the lady has a point.” A brow raised at him calling her ‘lady’ but she ignored it.

“But wouldn’t it be wiser if I attend? Seeing as he is my brother, it would look far more discreet should anyone pass by us. They’d think we were just having a little family get together.”

Why’d he have to talk sense? Delilah bit at her cheek but stopped herself as she noticed Tom doing the exact same thing. “I don’t see why one more person can’t go,” Pyrrhus called from the bar, pouring himself a glass of Irish whiskey.

Looking at Aleksander, he sighed for a moment and appeared to be mulling it over. “Fine, okay. I’ll owl him-“

“Even if your brother doesn’t agree, Delilah and I are going to the Department, whether you’re in attendance or not.”

Delilah felt an uncomfortable shiver roll down her spine at Tom’s tone, it wasn’t cold, but it was nearing it and he left no room for argument.

Aleksander looked like he wanted to punch him but he simply rolled his shoulders. “Might I ask what you two are even after? It would be helpful, that way my brother could lead you directly to the right section.”

Before Tom could open his mouth, undoubtedly to tell Aleksander no, Delilah beat him to it. “That won’t be necessary.” Everyone turned to look at her for an explanation but she waved them off passively. She didn’t have to explain herself to them. She knew her way around the Department, she just hoped it hadn’t changed too much in its lay out.

“By the way Lolita is coming along,” Cain spoke suddenly and the group stared at him incredulously. He quickly continued as Tom looked like he was to give him a telling off. “She’s my fiancé I couldn’t just tell her to sit home while I’m off having a holiday in France.”

“Yes you could.” 

Cain gave Pyrrhus a dead panned glare, “no, I couldn’t. But I’m going to try to get her to stay in France while we’re at the Ministry. By the way, what will the rest of us be doing while you three are off breaking the law?”

“Well while we head to the lift, distract any staff or guards. And in the meantime, wait patiently and don’t draw attention to yourselves. We should only be about thirty minutes. Five minutes down, fifteen minutes in the Department, five minutes back up.”

They all nodded but then Cain shook his head again, “that’ll be difficult, have you met these two idiots? The drunk and a Malfoy. No one is going to overlook his snowy white locks.” 

“Then I suggest Malfoy, you wear a hat... Olive isn’t coming along is she?” Aleksander asked, he looked worried and Delilah furrowed her brows. “No, but I can ask her?”

“No, no. I don’t want her coming.”

The boys shared glances and Tom looked bored out of his mind, not seeing why an important meeting had turned into such mundane conversation.

Aleksander flushed and scratched at the back of his neck, “if we by chance get caught I don’t want her to, y’know.”

“But you’re okay with the rest of us taking the fall?” Pyrrhus said after downing his third glass. Aleksander’s face fell and he shook his head, “What? No, I-“

Pyrrhus clapped him on the back and offered him his own glass of whiskey, “I’m only joking, mate. Besides, prison sounds quite exciting, no? Think of the adventure, what a story to tell the kids. I got locked up for assisting a break in into the Ministry!” He laughed and looked at them all, who by which were trying to contain their own laughter.

He waved his glass at them, his face suddenly serious and he clicked his tongue, “you’d all be my bitches.”

Delilah choked out a small laugh before grabbing his glass, “alright enough of that, go sit down.”

_________________________________

After the meeting, no one was ready to leave quite yet so they had dispersed into their own little groups. But Tom of course separated himself and took to leaning against a column.

However, when he saw Aleksander make to leave, he pushed away from the wall and easily caught up with him. “A minute of your time, Eques?”

“Well, actually-“

“Splendid.” Tom gave him his tight lipped smile and led him off towards the back mirror, well away from anyone else. He looked around for a second before settling his eyes on the boy he despised, “what are you getting out of all this?”

Aleksander furrowed his brows, “what do you mean?”

And Tom just stared at him, his gaze unwavering. His eyes were so dark that one couldn’t even see his pupils, so they appeared to be bottomless pits that leeched onto anyone who dared make direct contact. Aleksander felt the hair at the back of his neck prick up, how did he do that?

Tom ticked his jaw, his eyes then becoming like a black liquid pooling into an abyss. “Don’t lie to me,” his voice was calm, echoing loudly inside Aleksander’s mind to the point where his ears felt like they were ringing.

“Don’t ever think you’re capable of that.”

Straightening himself, Aleksander raised his chin to show he wasn’t scared of him. After all, he was only an eighteen year old. What could he possibly do? “Tom-“

“Riddle.” He corrected. Aleksander didn’t have the jurisdiction to call him by his first name. No one did. Well with the exception of... no. He blinked once to clear his thoughts. Why must she pop into his head at the most inopportune of times.

He then laughed dryly, taking Aleksander even more off guard. “What I can’t seem to grasp is why you’re even here. There was no need for you to come to Hogwarts. I know your family, Eques. You could’ve found asylum from Grindelwald anywhere. But here you are, you just dropped out of the sky.”

Aleksander was silent for a moment, but he wasn’t backing down. He was annoyingly resilient, Tom thought. “And what about you, eh?” He went to straighten Tom’s tie but he caught his wrist, his grip abnormally strong. A dull ache shot up Aleksander’s arm and restrained himself from wincing.

“What are you getting out of this? It has to be something.” His eyes trailed to the mirror and landed on Delilah’s reflection, “you certainly aren’t doing it for her, at least not solely. I know you, _Tom_ , you don’t do anything unless it’s for your own gain so tell me, what is it?” 

“That doesn’t concern you,” there was a shift in Aleksander’s wrist that was rather painful and he couldn’t help but let out a hiss. 

“And Eques, word of advice, don’t parade yourself around like you know everything. Because you don’t, and it’s a tad embarrassing to watch.”

Tom dropped his wrist and began to walk away, but turned and stopped so he was shoulder to shoulder with Aleksander, who eyed him warily.

He leaned in towards his ear while his eyes were stuck on the reflection of a particular golden haired witch. “Don’t bother trying to convince Pontmercy that I have an ulterior motive.” He dragged his eyes away and raised a hand, restraining a smirk as the boy flinched.

Tom straightened Aleksander’s tie before shoving his hands in his pockets and began to back away, “she already knows everything, unlike yourself.”

Aleksander swallowed dryly as he watched Tom walk off. He watched as his demeanor changed around Delilah, it wasn’t too visible, but it was there.

Delilah didn’t know everything, she may think she does, but she doesn’t. Even now she was blind to what was now standing right in front of her, in the form of a six foot two eighteen year old with dark eyes and brown hair. 

Aleksander shook his head and looked away, god help her when she finds out. “Lestrange, I’ll take that drink.”


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Flinching as someone suddenly sat down next to him, his pumpkin juice slightly spilled everywhere. "Merlin, Olive," Pyrrhus grumbled, not seeing how she's in such a good mood at an early hour.

Reaching for some toast, she simply smiled at him, as well as the group. "I'm coming along."

They all looked at her with questioning glances, before looking at each other, trying to decipher who told her.

"I over heard you lot, you really should be more observant of your surroundings."

Delilah nodded and took a long drink of her coffee, not missing the slight disgust in Tom's eyes; he hated coffee. "Yes, I seem to be having trouble with that lately." Not only did Olive overhear, but Aleksander as well. Perhaps it was meant to be, seeing as he's the one providing a way into the Ministry.

“Oh, and I invited Aurora.”

“Fuck sake,” Pyrrhus muttered.

Abraxas choked on his food and stared at Olive incredulously. Not at all wanting his girlfriend involved in this little Ministry plan.

__________________________________

Delilah was just leaving her advanced arithmetics class when her professor gave her a piece of parchment. As she left out the door, she was met with Tom leaning against the wall. Was he waiting for her?

She didn't bother to ask and kept walking, and he easily fell in step next to her. "That's most likely for your final meeting," he said simply, the crowd of students easily parting ways for both him and Delilah.

"Final meeting?" she muttered, undoing the seal and quickly skimming over the letter. As soon as she was finished, she couldn't help rolling her eyes and shoving it half heartedly in her bag. Meeting with Slughorn about career paths was the last thing she could care about.

His lips twitched slightly at her obvious annoyance. "Give him hell, why don't you?" With the slight nod of his head, the two departed ways at the foot of a hall. Delilah watched him walk away, the way he carried himself looking impressive as ever. Twirling her necklace, she pivoted and made way for the dungeons.

Barely a knock in, the old wooden door flung open and she was met with a smiling Potions Professor. "Ah, Miss Pontmercy! Come in, come in," Slughorn beamed and gestured for her to follow him into his office.

Sitting herself down, she watched as he waddled his way slightly around his desk, seeing as it was a narrow fit. She could've sworn she heard the wood creak from his plush chair the moment his weight was settled. "Now, then," he opened a drawer, not to bring out paperwork, but candied pineapple.

"What career are your eyes set on? Many options are open to you considering your grades, and I'd be happy to give you a letter of recommendation."

Delilah sighed slightly through her nose, wishing she could be anywhere but where she actually was. This meeting didn't matter, not in hindsight anyway. She wouldn't be staying in this time for much longer, and she was also adamant on getting this little interview over with as soon as possible.

Then her whole brain went 'what the hell' and she blurted the first thing to come to mind, "A job at the Ministry. The Department of Mysteries sounds rather appealing."

Slughorn blinked once before a bolstering laugh left his lips, making his mustache dance in the process. "Ambition indeed! Oh splendid, imagine one of my students running the Department of Mysteries! Oh splendid indeed." He laughed again and shook his head affectionately before turning to a shelf he had set up on the far wall. "You just might make the front, my dear."

Turning slightly in her seat, Delilah's eyes glanced over all the students he had framed, all in varying degrees of succession. She also didn't fail to miss how Tom already had his frame up, front and center; Slughorn's current prized pupil. Delilah couldn't help but snicker.

"That boy would make a fine Minister," he muttered while he rummaged in his desk for a moment. Slughorn pulled out a decent sized stack of parchment before handing it over the desk. "That should have all the information you need, come to me if you have any questions."

With a tight lipped smile and nod, Delilah hurriedly got up and bid her Head of house ado. Just as she shut the door, she heard him shouting something about the Slug Club dinners she's 'accidentally' missed.

Shaking her head, Delilah leafed through the papers half interested. Admittedly, a job in the Department of Mysteries would be exciting. However, she wasn't going to get her hopes up seeing as the Ministry was basically obsolete in her own time, over run by Death Eaters and the like.

Nearing the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Delilah rounded the corner with her eyes still trained on the papers and ran right into someone. Falling on her ass and dropping everything in the process.

"Jesus fuck," she winced.

"Language."

Of course it was him. Delilah didn't even bother to look up as she got on her knees and started to collect the papers, half expecting him to help. With the seconds ticking by however, she finally glanced upwards only to find Tom leaning against the wall watching her in amusement. His hands unhelpfully shoved in his pockets.

"Fat load of good you are," She grumbled as she got to her feet, blowing the hair out of her face since it was tussled with her clumsiness.

He didn't care to respond and glanced at one of the pieces of parchment, "Ministry worker? I don't think they could handle you."

Rolling her eyes, Delilah smacked him lightly on the chest with said papers, "says the soon to be school teacher." Continuing her walk to the common room, Tom fell in step beside her, though he had to slow his pace slightly due to her significantly shorter legs.

He was slightly surprised she even remembered, the day they fell into the Great Lake seemed like ages ago.

"Children adore me."

Delilah snorted before saying the password and making her way into the common room. It was relatively empty, mostly consisting of fourth to fifth year students, all of which were cramming for exams.

"What subject?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He was met with her laughter, laughter to the point where her shoulders bounced and her cheeks turned red. Tom analyzed and catalogued her expression and the sound of it before raising an eyebrow.

Delilah took in his questioning glance and tried to stifle her laughter with a hand, but it was rather difficult. She couldn't help herself. Lord Voldemort, defending the youth from the Dark Arts? The irony was nearly painful. She also couldn't help but think about how everyone was miserable when Snape took over DADA. 

“Poor kids."

There was a brief pause as they came to stop near the fireplace. Her nails lightly grazed over the snake carved into the marble before she blurted out, "I think you'd make a wonderful teacher." Because he would, he had the passion and skills needed.

However, Delilah knew he never would become a professor. Part of her wondered how different he would've been if he did end up teaching at Hogwarts.

Tom would've been under constant supervision from Dumbledore year after year, so maybe, just maybe things would've turned out for the better. Then a question suddenly arose; why didn't he end up teaching?

He watched the movements of her hand for a moment, taking in her words and registering them. Did she really think so? He kept telling himself that her opinion didn't matter, but he also couldn't ignore the sudden lightness he felt.

Instead of divulging any of this, Tom brought a slight smirk to his lips and looked down at her. "Yes, I would."

"Oh, don't get all cock-sure, remind me never to compliment you again." She jabbed him in the chest with one finger but quickly drew her hand away. Just then she realized how peculiar this all was. Joking about with him, the soon to be Dark Wizard.

As she watched his brows furrow, Delilah knew that he wasn't that yet. He just wasn't. It was beyond complicated to wrap her mind around.

Because in moments like these, standing by a crackling fire and encompassing one another, it felt normal. Perhaps she could pretend it was.

________________________________

Two days passed of Delilah wandering about the castle, attempting to keep herself busy as everyone else was studying. Currently, she was leaning against the fountain in the courtyard, flipping through a book and eating pepper imps.

Spring had finally reared it's head, warming the air and making the flowers grow. She even considered heading out to the Forbidden Forest, anxious to see what new life had bloomed.

"Delilah Meddows?"

Bones felt like marble as she froze, her eyes glued to the page and her breathing suddenly falling shallow. The only other person who knew her name was Dumbledore, and that voice definitely did not belong to the old wizard.

Slowly looking up, Delilah was met with a fourth year Hufflepuff. She looked like she'd just been petrified. The girls eyes were wide and glimmering, her fiery red locks sticking up in odd directions.

Blinking as a weak attempt to clear her thoughts, Delilah swallowed dryly and mustered up a smile. "I beg your pardon?"

Suddenly shooting forward, the girl gripped Delilah's hand and tugged, growing nearly frantic. "Please you must come with me, you must. There isn't enough time. Time. Oh what a funny thing that must be to you, time doesn't account for you at all."

What the fuck is happening? Did she know who she was? Delilah's never seen her before. So many questions rang in her head, but the girl tugged again and yanked Delilah up to her feet.

She was left stumbling after the girl as she practically dragged her through the school grounds, both completely oblivious to the odd glances they were receiving. All of Delilah's questions landed on deaf ears.

They turned one corner and Delilah felt the blood fall from her face, leaving her cheeks oddly cold.

The Divination classroom.

Trying her best to tug her arm out of the vice like grip the Hufflepuff had, it was a failed attempt as she was lead up the ladder.

The classroom was empty but the atmosphere still felt dense and congested, due to the heavy drapes cast over the windows and the blazing fire. It all made Delilah feel dizzy.

Just as she turned to look at the girl, hands were placed on her shoulders and she was shoved into a chair.

"You're so far away from home."

Her lips felt heavy as she tried to speak, everything was happening much too quickly, Delilah couldn't keep up. Whatever she was going to say died on her tongue as she watched the girls eyes turn a foggy gray, gazing off like she was witnessing something terrific yet invisible. Perhaps she was.

"And soon you'll be even further."

"What does that mean?" She cut in quickly, her tone sharp as panic ran up her spine.

"You're lost, so very lost. Both in the body and soul, and it's so dark. It's like it's divided, oh Merlin the _things_ that you'll do."

"Stop talking," Delilah went to stand up and bolt out the door, but the girl raised her hand and she froze. Nothing could move but her eyes, a veil of what seemed to be a paralysis had covered Delilah.

"Everything has its time, and everything ends. The clock will be striking the eleventh hour soon and you mustn't hesitate, you mustn't. Find that which you love, and let it kill you. It's the only way."

The girls eyes then rolled to the back of her head, her hand falling as well when she collapsed to the floor. Delilah remained frozen for a moment, not even aware she was now free to move. The Hufflepuff obviously had the Sight, but pure denial was coursing through Delilah.

Jumping to her feet, barely a glance was spared at the poor girl as Delilah ran away. She practically fell down the ladder in order to put distance between them. 

Her chest was heaving but she didn't feel it, must've been the adrenaline. Feet pounding against the stone flooring, Delilah navigated the halls easily, but she had no direction in mind.

What did all of that mean?

Reaching a winding staircase, Delilah set off, her feet moving before her brain could even register her surroundings. She realized she must've looked mental to other students, but for the time being she really couldn't give a damn. She had every right to be freaking out.

Was she not going to make it home? What about her soul, what the fuck did that mean? Who did she love and why were they going to kill her? Why was she going to let it happen?

Delilah was in no mood to be murdered. Again.

It all had to be nonsense. It had to. However, whoever that girl was, she _knew_ who Delilah was.

Turning back and checking on the Hufflepuff is what she should undoubtedly do. If the girl remembered her vision, Delilah had to wipe her memory. No one could know who she was. Currently, she wasn’t thinking rationally so the thought barely occurred to mind.

Rounding off the stairs, Delilah grabbed onto the railing as an aid to spin her around the corner. In doing so, she ran right into Tom's chest and let out a scream of shock.

He easily caught her, one hand gripping her forearm while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist. Her left leg was stuck between his, seeing as she was half way through the action of slipping and falling on her rear end.

They really must stop meeting like this.

As per usual, Delilah was cold to the touch. However his brows furrowed at her state, she was shaking an awful lot and her eyes were wide and fixated. He was half worried she'd start bleeding profusely from her eyes again. "What's wrong?" 

His concern irked her. Everything was completely wrong. He shouldn't have that look of fret on his face. Tom shouldn't have caught her so easily, as if it was instinct. He should've let her fall. Wouldn't be the first time.

Analyzing her current condition quickly, Tom came to the conclusion she was frightened. He's seen that glint in her eyes before, when she was crawling away from him.

This time however, her fright wasn't directed at him. It was odd to see her fear not centered on him, but Tom couldn't deny the relief he felt.

The feeling of her ribs rapidly expanding and descending against his own chest snapped him out of his revere. Turning his head this way and that, there was a crevice next to a window, partly hidden behind thick drapery.

Leading her over took a moment longer than necessary, seeing as he was supporting most of her weight. Sitting Delilah down, his dark eyes raked over her for a moment to asses what to do.

"Do you remember that breathing technique I showed you? Back at Avery's manor?"

Her brows furrowed, was she hyperventilating? She hadn't noticed, everything was sort of a blur at the moment. Except him, Tom remained annoyingly in high resolution.

Sighing through his nose, Tom sat himself next to her, turning so their knees bumped and they were facing one another. "Purse your lips," raising a hand, he placed it over her own mouth. His mind quickly took note of how soft her lips felt pressed against the palm of his hand.

Shaking his head, he placed his other hand on her upper stomach, where her diaphragm was located. "Breathe into your stomach and hold."

They did it a few times, her eyes locked onto his. Pulling his hand away, he patted her on the cheek, "good girl."

She didn't have the energy to narrow her eyes, instead one question sprung itself forth. How did he even know how to do that? Had he taken medical training, perhaps?

With the tick of his jaw, Tom pulled his other hand off her and leaned back against the stone frame. He must've read her mind because he sighed then and ran a hand through his hair.

"Everyone has their moments when their fear catches up to them."

Her expression didn't waver as she looked at him, but there was obviously a glimmer of being perplexed behind her shining blue eyes. "What on earth could you be afraid of?"

Rubbing at his cheek, Tom looked at her for a moment as he debated on what he should tell her. Or if he even could. He took in the faded freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and nose. How her golden hair framed her face in a mess of curls. And the ever present aroma of peppermint, petrichor, and a sea in a storm.

When he was a child, he was afraid of many things. All varying in degrees of rationality.

The orphanage felt awake at night. Shadows appeared to be a heavier darkness that loomed over Tom at every corner. When he would walk down those narrow decrepit halls, the old floorboards would creak. The echo from them resounding off the chipped walls in a groan.

He would just sit alone in bed, sometimes till morning. Anxiously awaiting till dawn to reared its head so the orphanage would go to sleep.

However, he couldn't tell her that. He's never told anyone that.

Lastly his eyes traced the slender contours of her neck, watching how they moved when she breathed. "Do you fear death, Delilah?"

"No." She answered easily as she toyed with the hem of her skirt, as if the question was about the condition of the weather.

Delilah grew rigid once she finally recalled everything Harry had told her about Voldemort. About how his initial goal was immortality. After killing Harry, of course.

"Do you?"

He half heartedly shrugged but she knew the answer was yes. A million times yes. What she did next was utterly stupid, but lately her motor functions had been betraying her mind.

Delilah grabbed Tom's hand, it was considerably larger than hers and there was a warm comfort to it. He himself stiffened at the contact, feeling a chill ripple across his skin like water from her ever cold hands.

"Don't," her voice was soft and steady, but none of the tension left his body language.

"I know that sounds utterly ridiculous, but don't fear death. Look at it as the next great adventure." She nearly laughed at the accuracy of that statement. Look at her. She was killed and then thrown into the 1940s.

His coffee brown eyes had grown nearly black as his gaze bored into her. He couldn't understand, how could she not feel the crushing weight of uncertainty in death.

Tom liked knowing everything, or at least having some sense of awareness, or being presented with an opportunity to figure something out. Like Delilah, she was a puzzle. But she was a puzzle he was currently putting together, albeit the process was taking far longer than necessary.

Not breaking eye contact with him, she mustered up a smile. He needed it, Tom looked lost, both with himself and what she was trying to explain.

"I'm not going to sit here and ramble about how it will be all sunshine and everything you could possibly want. It might be, who knows? That's the point. Not a single person knows, not even ghosts, isn't that exciting? Forever is promised to no one, but life is. Just as well as death."

There was a strange sense of reassurance and comfort that crawled into her chest as he finally intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Everything has its time, and yours is here and now. If you spend your entire life running from death, you'll miss out on all the beauty, wonders, and opportunities waiting around the corner. And then it will be too late."

She should really shut up. Would this be considered meddling with the time line? In some way, she supposed she was subliminally telling future Voldemort to not seek out being an immortal. However, she knew he wouldn't listen. He might be hearing her, but he wasn't listening.

Still, Delilah couldn't bring herself to not try at least once. That way she felt her time here wasn't utterly wasted. 

"Immortality isn't living forever, it's everyone else dying. And I know that must not mean much to you, I know better than to assume that. I know you. But eventually," she shrugged and ran a thumb over his knuckles absentmindedly. The action causing a strange wave of calmness to run down from the base of his skull to his back. 

"Down the line you might meet someone you can't bare to lose."

Tom couldn't look her in the eye any further and flickered his gaze down to their hands. He followed the abstract line made by their entwined fingers, turning this way and that in an odd yet fascinating pattern. "Yes, perhaps I might."

He then stood up, tugging her up with him in the process. Once she found her footing, he dropped her hand and shoved his own in his pockets.

"However, I doubt it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE feel free to leave comments expressing how you felt about the chapter!! They always put a smile on my face and I appreciate the feedback.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be starting my seventh year at Hogwarts today!!

Running her fingers along the quills edge, the fibers of the worn feather caressed and curved around her digits, it nearly tickled her. Mainly, it was a distraction. 

Delilah couldn't stop thinking about that strange Hufflepuff girl, the one with the Sight. Who she was, was still unknown. Delilah had gone around asking as discreetly as possible, but she came up short. How could the girl just not exist? At each meal Delilah searched the tables; nothing. 

Currently, she couldn't afford to dwell on the girls message. She couldn't allow herself to, home is what she needed to focus on. 

Twirling her necklace, dark blue eyes turned towards the windows. Watching how the soft spring air rattled the distant trees in the forbidden forest, how some creatures ventured closer to the school, and how the skies seemed more clear and blue than ever. 

What will she tell everyone when she gets back? 

When will she be getting back? 

With the time turner, Delilah could could go back to the exact moment she left. However, that would put her in the Ministry, completely vulnerable to Voldemort. If she sprang up alive, she was sure Voldemort wouldn't be pleased. For someone who's so good at killing, he seems to fail at murdering those he wants dead the most. 

Like Harry, for example. 

And herself. 

Perhaps she could go a little bit before she 'died' and wait out in some empty office until her past self is sent to the forties. 

Or she can travel a day or two after? 

Delilah hadn't the faintest clue what she would do once she was able to see her friends and family again. Currently, she was so accustomed to life in forties Hogwarts. Surrounded by her new friends, going to classes, being somewhat normal yet out of tune all at once. 

Being a proper teen again was elating. 

Not having to be on the run or constantly looking over her shoulder, nor worrying about when she can eat again, or if the floor is too stiff to sleep on. Not having to ponder if death was only minutes away. 

And Merlin, the countless hours she'd stay up listening to the Potterwatch. Her whole body rigid as they began to read the names of the newly deceased, hoping and praying no one she knew was proclaimed dead. 

Those hours were always the worst. 

Had she been pronounced dead? 

Shaking her head, Delilah looked down at her textbook. She'd been looking at the same page for nearly twenty minutes. 

Once she got the time turner, she could go back whenever she pleased. With that lovely contraption, she had all of time at her fingertips, waiting to be bent for her needs and obey every command.

Would it be selfish if she stayed a bit longer? 

The moment the thought occurred to mind, Delilah pinched her arm so hard blood was drawn. 

Yes, it'd be beyond selfish and utterly idiotic. 

Besides the obvious gluttony she was eyeing and having her own bed, what other reasons did she have to stay? 

A familiar set of coffee colored dark eyes popped into her head and she slapped herself lightly on the cheek, earning a few curious glances from her peers. 

An awkward smile tugged at her lips as she raised a heavy hand to flip the page. 

No. 

He's not a reason to stay, he's every reason she should be leaving. 

_________________________________

Stepping through the doorway to Potions took much more effort than needed. The curved stone archway seemed more daunting than usual, something in her gut was telling her to turn around skip class. 

Before she could, an arm was thrown over her shoulder. "You're blocking up the door, sweetheart." 

Glaring halfheartedly at the raven haired boy, her and Pyrrhus moved their way into the dreaded classroom. 

They sat in their usual seats. Delilah next to Elio, Abraxas and Tom across the table. She really should move seats, but that would look by far too petty. As well as raise some unwanted questions by too curious classmates. 

Once everyone was settled, Slughorn clapped his hands and beamed at them all. His eyes lingering a bit longer on Tom, his hopeful minister in the making. 

"Afternoon, my dear students!" He bellowed, his voice bouncing off the stone curved walls, weaving its way between glass ingredients bottles. It sent a low hum reverberating through the room. 

"Now, since finals are upon us, I thought we'd do something a bit challenging yet still fun! After all, I want you to enjoy yourself and be as least stressed as possible."

Everyone eyed each other, but only got shrugs in return. Delilah felt her own curiosity peak. How could Potions be fun? Unless he was about to let them blow something up. That put a light smile on her lips as she thought of Seamus. 

"Amortentia."

A collective groan sounded from the room and Slughorn waved them off passively, “can anyone tell me about love potions?” 

Surprisingly, Cain raised his hand. “They’re brews, which cause the drinker to become infatuated or obsessed with the person who gave it to them. Love potions are considered to be powerful and highly dangerous. Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence.”

“Correct, five points to Slytherin. Powerful infatuations can be induced by the skilful potioneer, but never yet has anyone managed to create the truly unbreakable, eternal, unconditional attachment that alone can be called love.” He looked at all of them pointedly, to address this potion wasn’t an easy fix for teenagers suffering from unreciprocated feelings. 

“Can anyone tell me the effects of this potion in particular?”

A red headed Ravenclaw raised her hand and Slughorn gestured for her to speak. “It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive, even if the person doesn't acknowledge or is unaware of their fondness for the object of their affection themselves.”

“Five points to Ravenclaw, any side effects?”

Olive spoke without raising her hand, “embarrassment on part of the drinker and the effects only last about twenty four hours.”

“Another five points to Slytherin. Now, get to work! Oh, and this is individual today! You can't pair up on exam day." 

With a roll of her eyes, Delilah turned to Elio but he was already up and out of his seat. "Yes, I'll get you ingredients."

"You're the best." Offering him a tired smile, she turned and rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms. She didn't know why she felt so drained, both mentally and physically. 

Rubbing at her eyes, Delilah watched as Tom stood up and started to prepare his cauldron. Right, she should probably do that. 

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, she got up slowly but then froze and seemed to sway a bit, her hands gripped the desk and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

"Alright, Pontmercy?"

Shaking her head, Delilah got to work and nodded, "stood up too fast, just a bit dizzy." Elio came back and set her things down before starting on his own potion, she muttered a 'thank you' and got to work.

However, her actions halted for a moment as Tom's voice cut through the air. But it was quiet enough so only she could hear. 

"How are you so passive about death?"

Sighing through her nose, Delilah should've known that conversation from a few days ago wouldn't be so easily forgotten. She wished it would be though, she was being an idiot. She could've ruined everything. And holding his hand? Really? 

All she gave him was a shrug, "same as anyone. Why are you so passive about- well, anything? Sometimes you're like a statue."

There was a few minutes of silence as they worked, but with a few glances Delilah could tell he was mulling over how to answer. This was mostly given away by the fact he was biting his cheek. A habit she herself picked up. 

"Time is not a strict progression. Everything that has already happened, or will happen, is happening right now as we speak." 

Raising a brow at him, Delilah urged him to continue with a wave of her hand and he seemed to relax a bit. Glad to have a moment to rant about something he found fascinating. 

In that moment she realized something, Tom rarely ever had the chance to do that. Sure, he talked, and people listened. But they only listened to what they would expect from him, and Tom knew this. So he'd say what they wanted to hear. 

Delilah was different, she listened. To him, to the thoughts that poured from his brain and shot out of his mouth. She was also one of the only people he knew who could comprehend it. Tom found that exciting. 

"Everything in all of creation is happening all at once. That's why time travel is possible, you just pick a point and shift through the timeline. Except it's not a line, not a straight one at least. Think of time as more of a sphere with no visible end. A sphere so vast, no one knows how wide the diameter is or how big the volume." 

There was an shine of childish delight to his eyes in that moment, and it was wonderful. Delilah couldn't stop staring at him. 

"So if you live by the notion every series of events is happening as you speak, nothing will surprise you," he looked at Delilah as he tossed in an ingredient. She surprises him though, constantly. 

"Except death of course. That's where the sphere closes off. But you're still technically inside, somewhere. Death is what's outside, that's the unknown. Does time still exist in the afterlife? Is there even an afterlife? There's too many different beliefs for fact."

Delilah bit her own cheek as she gazed at him. He was terrified. 

Tom was just a boy who didn’t like endings. 

Death outlives everyone who's ever walked the earth, there was no point in trying to outrun it. But saying that to Tom would prove to be fruitless, he wouldn't listen. His fear had him in over drive. 

"Again, though. If you live by expecting every outcome, you'll always be prepared." 

Mulling it over for a moment, Delilah shrugged. "Seems dull."

"Yes, you would think that." 

She glared at him before turning her attention back to her potion, it was slowly starting to come together. A sheen started to film over the top, but it wasn't quite the mother of pearl look Slughorn would accept. Not from her at least. Her nose then twitched and there was a faint smell of what could be fire. Or wood, perhaps both? Burning wood, maybe? 

It was probably just the flames under her cauldron, so she dismissed the incessant fragrance. 

"Question," Delilah suddenly blurted. 

He raised a brow but didn't turn his eyes away from his work, gesturing for her to continue with his pestle. 

"Why are you blood prejudice? Considering," she knew the fact that he was a half-blood was a secret he would take to the grave. Though his future self was determined to never have one in the first place. Nonetheless, she couldn't wrap her head around it. 

She knew he was prejudiced, that speech he gave her all those months ago was bullshit. 

A quote from Voltaire popped into her mind that seemed to sum up Tom quite appropriately, “The man visited by ecstasies and visions, who takes dreams for realities, is an enthusiast. The man who supports his madness with murder is a fanatic."

You don't start a whole blood thirsty fanatical movement simply to protect yourself. However, it is a cover. And a damn good one, at that. 

She now also knew that he was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but that wasn't an excuse. Tom was an actor who's been playing a part of a pureblood for so long, he probably genuinely thought he was. Character and actor muddled together and became one. 

"Pardon?" He was partly distracted as he crinkled his nose, a smell of dust mixed with rain was assaulting him.

Delilah shrugged one shoulder as she let some rose petals fall into the potion, the vibrant red from the dried flower seemed to soak into the liquid, swirling and giving it a pink hue. "Take me for example, I'm a witch."

"Yes, you are."

"Let me finish," pointing her knife at him, Tom raised a finger and gently pushed the blade away from his face. Must she be so reckless? 

"I can preform incredible magic, magic some people haven't even heard of. Yet because my blood isn't 'pure' some believe I don't even deserve to be called a witch. Which is fucking ridiculous, I could beat any of their asses in a duel even on a bad day." 

Tom found his lips to be tilted up slightly and he shook his head, sprinkling some powered moon stone into his cauldron. His amusement dropped when he saw her own features turn more solemn, her eyes down cast and a small frown to her lips. 

An echo of her own screaming was bouncing around inside her head, all those months of torture were being brought back to life. Delilah remembered why she was treated like the scum of the earth. The scars on her back made their presence known in that moment, they began to almost itch and she rolled her shoulders. 

The smell of parchment broke her out of her trance and she blinked away the troubled memory. "I see no moral, logical, or justifiable reason I should be robbed of my magic." 

A brush of air passed through his lips as he stirred, the golden gleam of her hair shining impertinently in his peripheral vision. In total, he knew blood prejudice was a tad ridiculous. The wizarding population would've died out long ago if it weren't for muggles.

However, he couldn't help the involuntary hatred he felt towards his father and the other muggles who treated him so poorly at the orphanage. All because he was different; he either didn't speak enough, or when he did the adults didn't like what he had to say. Tom was too self aware for their liking, so of course they sought out to fix that. 

He himself was a half blood, yet he was top of his class, and more gifted than half of his professors. He could probably out duel the Minister if he should be so inclined. 

Then there was Delilah, one of the most skilled magical persons he's ever had the luck of meeting. He'd be damned before she was considered lesser, or stripped of her title as a witch. 

He would never say that out loud, his pride wouldn't physically allow him to. Instead something much different left his lips. 

"If it would make you feel any better, I consider you at least above average." 

She raised a brow at him and half heartedly threw in some rose thorns. "Was that your half-assed attempt at a compliment?" 

"Take it or leave it, Delilah." 

As a shimmering fog started to accumulate on top of her potion, she couldn't help but wonder what Tom would smell. Would he even smell anything at all? Knowing what he becomes, Delilah couldn't picture him loving, let alone liking, anything. Is he even capable? 

Unless evil has a fragrance. 

She snickered at her own joke but her whole body suddenly turned rigid to the point where her back ached. An incredibly strong waft of cigarettes hit her nose. 

Please by all the stars no. 

Tom looked at her curiously, about to open his mouth and make a smart ass comment to tease her considering her expression. He was going to make a joke about her smelling Slughorn' pungent cologne. However, he himself turned to stone as a wave of peppermint assaulted his nose. 

He nearly felt dizzy. 

His eyes slowly dragged from Delilah to his cauldron. He didn't understand, he couldn't. Tom didn't exactly know what he was going to smell when Slughorn assigned this potion, but he definitely wasn't expecting for it to be her. 

Again, Tom's brilliant mind just couldn't seem to comprehend what was happening. The only thing running through his mind in a frenzy was 'why?' 

Yes, he could admit she wasn't too awful to look at, but- just, why? 

Without a thought, Tom raised his wand and cleared out his cauldron. 

It was fruitless, the smell was still everywhere, swirling around him as if he was underwater, the air felt heavier yet he was involuntarily breathing in deeper, despite how light headed it was making him feel. Her fragrance was emitting from every cauldron in the room, it felt as if he was drowning. Part of him didn't mind, but the other half was panicking. Tom never panicked. 

Then the wave of a sea in a storm hit him, combined with the peppermint and petrichor, it was probably one of the most seductive scents Tom had ever inhaled. He felt himself breathing more slowly and deeply, the fumes filling him up in a moment of delight. 

Delilah blinked out of her trance when she heard Slughorn give a short wail as he stood next to Tom, staring down at the boys empty cauldron before he had the chance to see what wonderful job his favorite student did. 

She didn't want to look at him, she couldn't bring herself to. Delilah already felt awful enough that she found him physically attractive, but for him to be the one she smelt in a love potion? What was wrong with her? She was definitely going to hell. 

Finally, she mustered up what little courage she had and looked up from her cauldron. She was met with a peculiar sight. 

Tom had paled, his cheeks completely void of color, and he was acting a bit twitchy. He was also looking in any other direction but at her, instead his eyes were slightly wide and moving around frantically, looking at each cauldron in the room as if they were offending him. 

She wanted to as what he smelt, but she knew if he asked her the same question she would die before telling him. That would put his ego into over drive for years. 

The two were both so caught up in drowning in each other's fragrance, absentmindedly breathing in deeper, yet they were completely unaware of the notion it was each other they were smelling. They were also unaware of the eyes on them. 

Some girls and a few select guys were not so subtly gazing at Tom, their eyes clouded over due to the potion. 

Delilah herself was completely oblivious to the pale green eyes stuck to the side of her face.

She kept telling herself this didn’t mean anything, it was merely feeble attraction, not relating to love. It can’t be. If she kept telling herself that, it had to be true. The mind was a powerful thing, but it could also be like a nasty disease. Making her doubt everything occurring to her in that moment. 

But the heart was deadly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m also officially a senior in high school now!! In English last week we had to write poems about a book we’ve read so of course I wrote one about Tom Riddle. 
> 
> “Hidden Fragment”
> 
> I am cold and heavy. I’m overwhelmed by indifference.   
> It’s simply fact, unconcerned by admiration or discontent.   
> I am not brutal, but realistic -  
> The robes of a scholar, fine silk.   
> It may be a part of my heart. But it vanishes.   
> Light and ignorance divide us incessantly. 
> 
> It infests my soul for asylum.   
> Then it becomes animalistic, carving away my remorse.   
> I am vital for its survival. It envelopes and possesses.   
> Each day there’s a swell that replaces humanity.   
> In myself I have drowned innocence, and in me a   
> Creature rises from an echo, like a repressed nightmare.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update so soon?? Shocking, I know.

Delilah had to be dragged out of bed when the middle of exams hit, the past two days of tests had been kicking her ass. Not so much mentally, but having to get up early and sit through boring test was exhausting. They wouldn't even let her nap when she finished early.

Today though, she had Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was definitely not looking forward to today. She knew she'd do well, but what was awaiting at the end of the test had her nerves in a jumble.

They were to go through a maze set up on the Quidditch field, a series of tasks littered throughout. At the end a boggart was waiting, just bursting with excitement to torment students with their worst fears. 

She had tried her hardest to get out of that, even asking for an exemption from the exam in total. Slughorn wouldn't hear it, rambling how if she wanted a job in the Department of Mysteries, she had to toughen it up. She felt like punching him.

Dumbledore couldn't really do anything either, he wasn't her head of house, and it would be considered unfair if he gave her a pardon. It wasn't like any other student was looking forward to seeing their nightmares brought to life.

"For the love of Merlin and Morgana, will you get up?" Olive sighed and threw a pillow at Delilah, hitting her square in the face.

"Since when are you a morning person?" She yawned, forcing herself to sit up. "I don't want to miss breakfast... and I'm planning on taking a last sneak peak at Tom's notes." The brunette raised a brow as Delilah flinched slightly at the name.

She didn't even want to think about him or his stupid face. Delilah had been trying her best to avoid him at all cost. Seeing as she was not willing to accept the truth that was dangling above her head like a glinting guillotine.

It was only a matter of time before the rope was released and the blade came swinging down.

She thanked every deity in existence when they walked into the Great Hall, Tom was no where to be seen.

"Damn," Olive muttered. She hated the boy, but that didn't mean she couldn't use his intellect to her advantage. 

Sitting down next to Cain, Delilah grabbed some toast and began to nurse a cup of coffee. It burned her tongue, but she didn't mind. At this point, she was welcoming any distraction.

"Are you prepared for today?" Cain asked, biting into a slice of honeyed ham. Shaking her head, her eyes danced up to the enchanted ceiling. It looked like it was going to rain later, just perfect. She loved the rain, but she was in no mood to get drenched during her exam.

"You'll do brilliantly, though Riddle will get the highest score," there was a pause, "no offense."

Waving him off, Delilah took a generous bite of her toast. "I'm not really in the mood to give it my all today, to be honest I don't really care about my score."

"Don't let Slughorn hear that," he laughed, but it slowly died as he looked at her. She looked exhausted. "I don't know why Riddle even puts effort in, maybe he doesn't, I don't know. He's brilliant, shame he's throwing that all away to become a professor. He'd be wonderful in the Ministry."

"There's no shame in being a professor, look at Dumbledore. He makes the Minister look like a blundering idiot." Her eyes turned towards the staff table, but the auburn haired man was absent. Probably getting ready for the transfigurations exams today.

"But that's exactly my point, Dumbledore could be doing so much more."

Shaking her head, Delilah took another long drink of her coffee. "The Ministry is too noisy for someone with Tom's ambition."

"I would think working in the Ministry is perfect for someone with his goals. He'd have infinite connections."

"A person like him needs to keep a low profile, Tom draws too much attention, most of the time it's not even intentional." Twirling her necklace, her eyes drew towards the Hufflepuff table, a weak attempt at finding that girl. Again, she was no where to be seen.

"Think of a professor; a man with no motive. And a man with no motive is a man no one suspects. It allows them to move around freely under the radar. If you keep your opposers confused, if they don't know who you are or what you want, they're blind. They can't know what you plan to do next."

Cain stopped eating and looked at her for a moment. He never thought of it like that before. A dry chuckle left his lips and he turned back to his food.

"Merlin, you two are perfect for each other."

_________________________________

As they sat high up in the stands, the breeze blowing in their hair with a promise of rain, Delilah's foot tapped incessantly. Closer and closer her name was to being called.

Her eyes danced over the vast maze, built from high walls of stone and trees. From her vantage point, she couldn't see anything useful to give her a heads up before she went in. However each student came out looking like they'd just gone through hell. Of course the end was visible to everyone, though. The universe really did hate her.

The task with the boggart would be clear to see for anyone who's watching from the stands, so far she's witnessed a variety of fears from her fellow classmates. Some vague, some terrible.

Delilah didn't know what she was ultimately afraid of, and that's what scared her. Back in third year when Lupin was the DADA professor they practiced with boggarts, hers was Voldemort, like so many other students. Times had changed however. Voldemort still scared her, but she just didn't feel that ache of terror anymore at the thought of that creature.

So what could she possibly see?

"Delilah Pontmercy."

She suddenly felt heavy as she stood up, her legs shaking as she walked down the stairs. Gripping her wand, Delilah gave a polite but pained smile to her professor. The woman wished her a good luck, and Delilah mentally wished her a restless sleep. 

She really didn't want to do this.

Once she got down to the field, the entrance to the maze stood tall and daunting, well around twenty feet high, maybe twenty five.

A draft was coming from inside as well, making the dirt and grass rustle around her feet. Looking down she smiled slightly, due to the possibility of maybe needing to run, Delilah thought it appropriate for a change in shoes.

Her red high top converse were a stark contrast against the green Quidditch field.

Craning her neck up, she looked at all the students in the bleachers, either looking down in curiosity or boredom.

Her professor raised her wand, and three seconds later a bright red light shot into the sky. The timer had started.

Taking a deep breath, Delilah started forward.

The moment she stepped inside, the sky warped from clouds to a pitch black sky. A dim blue lighting made it barely visible to see five feet in front of her. "Lovely," she muttered before casting lumos.

She had been walking for maybe two minutes with no trouble, but suddenly her world turned and she hit the ground painfully hard. Something was wrapped tightly around her leg, and good god did it hurt.

Looking down, she let out a hiss of pain at the sight. A two inch thick vine of thorns was wrapped around her leg, each needle like thorn driven into her skin. That was the third pair of stockings she got ruined by blood.

Severing the vine with a charm, Delilah limped up to her feet and slowly unwrapped the vine from her leg. The sight of multiple thorns coming out of her flesh was a bit disgusting, but she was on a timer so she couldn't afford to dwell.

With a wave of her wand, the cuts healed and she took off in a sprint, keeping a more watchful eye on the ground this time.

Cutting corners quickly, Delilah managed to only run into two dead ends. However, as she rounded another corner, a blazing inferno of purple fire shot towards her. Letting out a surprised yelp, she dove across to the other isle.

"What even is this school?" She gasped out, peaking around the corner, she came to realize the fire was almost alive, in the shape of a giant serpent.

With a groan, Delilah threw her head back and caught her breath for a moment before standing up and casting a protego on herself.

"Aguamenti!" Her wand spun in her right hand and her left was splayed out, her mind solely focused on pushing the fire back as the snake lashed at her, hell bent on burning her alive.

The snake darted forward and Delilah slid back on her feet, causing a good portion of the water to fall to the floor, making the ground muddy.

An agitated groan left her lips as she yanked her wand upwards, throwing the snakes head back. Swinging down with her right arm and curving to the right, the water enveloped the massive serpent in a ball of water. It thrashed but after a moment the flames dwindled into nothing.

Delilah dropped her arms and the water evaporated seconds before it hit the floor. With a pleased smile, she was off again.

Only managing to run for about three minutes, there was a wail from somewhere to her left and Delilah skidded to a stop. Looking down the isle, it was so dark and a heavy fog was swirling through the air. There was another wail, Delilah took a single step forward before something wrapped around her neck and yanked her to the ground.

Her head was thrown back and hit the floor first, making her ears rings and stars dance. She couldn't breathe, Devil's Snare with a mind of its own was coiling around her throat.

Her hands clawed at it for a moment as she choked, her eyes wide and watering. In her state of fret and being taken off guard, she forgot for a moment that all she had to do was relax. Her chest was heaving as she suddenly stilled, and slowly the mischievous plant unwinded itself.

Shooting up, Delilah grabbed her wand and scurried away, coughing roughly as she did so. She'd definitely have bruises. 

Turning back to her left, Delilah took off down the foggy isle of the maze.

There was a sound again, but it definitely did not sound like a wail. It sounded familiar but she couldn't pin point it. "What are you?-"

The whole right side of her body got slammed into and she rolled a few times on the floor. Rubbing her head, an agitated groan passed her lips as she looked up at the Acromantula. 

The creatures pincers clicked excitedly as it looked down at her, an intimidating gleam to its eight eyes. She knew she should probably tame it, it was probably a few points on her exam, but she didn't have time. "Sorry, Buddy."

Waving her wand, the branches from the tall trees shot out and wrapped themselves around the beast. It made numerous sounds of protests but Delilah ran past and into the next entry way. Once she was a safe distance, she released the gigantic spider and used the branches to form a barrier so it couldn't come after her.

"I hate spiders."

Her whole body ached but she kept pushing forward, trying her best to ignore what was awaiting her at the end.

Turning right, there was a low whistle that was coming nearer and nearer, but she couldn't determine which direction it was coming from. As it grew louder and more prominent, Delilah's eyes widened as a ball of light was shooting towards her.

Dropping to her hands and knees, the ball of blinding light burried itself into the stone wall behind her, some how burning into it.

She wanted this over with, she was tired, and suddenly hungry, her stomach growling rather loudly. Delilah was about to stand up when another ball shot forward. She easily avoided it, but as she moved, she felt something cold soak through her clothes.

Furrowing her brows, Delilah looked down and saw some sort of black liquid start to ooze out of the ground. By the time she got to her feet, it was already up to her knees. “What the hell is this?”

The liquid was dense and made it hard to move, especially with her robes. With an annoyed sigh, she shrugged off her school robes and vest, leaving her in her button down and skirt. "This better not have ruined my shoes," she muttered.

Pushing through the liquid, it was now up to her stomach. She gasped when something slid between her legs, and nearly a second later something cold and slimy wrapped around her side, followed by a sharp sting.

A scream of pain tore through her clenched teeth and she tried to move as quickly as possible to the opposing wall, which was made of trees she was hoping she could climb.

Another scream left her lips as there was another agonizing blow to her side.

Reaching the tree, her shaking hands gripped the rough wood and she pulled herself out of the black liquid. Odd, she was soaked, but it merely appeared to be water.

Dragging herself over a wall, she barely had enough time to catch her breath before a strong gust of wind knocked her off. Wind ripped past her ears as she fell about twenty feet into the next isle.

Delilah fell on her already pained side and another scream ripped past her throat. Finally having the courage to look down, she choked out a yell at what was digging into her torso.

It's body was long and translucent, allowing Delilah to see her blood moving through the innards of the disgusting creature latched onto her. Her eyes were wide as she lifted shaking hands and wrapped them around the squirming leech like form.

One hand gripped its long body while the other tightened around the back of its head. Her chest was heaving and Delilah tried not to focus on all the blood she was losing.

She could do this. She's gone through worse.

"One, two, three-" and she yanked. 

The scream that left her lips this time burned and scraped against her throat and the creature unlatched its jaw from her skin. It thrashed and Delilah dropped it to the floor before grabbing her wand.

Blinking away the pain, she pointed at the creature with her wand and used sectumsempra. She didn't give two shits if it was dark magic, that was dreadful.

Limping up, Delilah felt a cool breeze on the back of her neck and she screwed her eyes shut. Things just kept getting worse, but at least it was almost over.

Clearing her throat, Delilah cleaned herself off and healed her wounds. She didn't want anyone to see what a mess she was at the moment. Despite her usually ignoring such a fact, she had a reputation to uphold. 

Delilah was a girl who could handle herself.

Stepping out into the open expanse, the light blinded her for a moment. It wasn't exactly sunny outside, more rain clouds had accumulated and thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance.

Her eyes passed over the stands for a moment before she looked in front of her, and she stiffened.

There were eight cloaked figures, their hoods thankfully covering the death eater masks from the crowd above.

They were stalking towards her, but confusion caused her to be rooted to the spot. Delilah didn't feel an ounce of fear in her as they neared.

A howl of laughter and the crack of a whip rang through the air then and Delilah nearly blacked out.

Anything but this, she mentally pleaded. She didn't want anyone seeing this, they had no right.

Bellatrix emerged from thin air, her cracked yellow teeth gleaming in a crazed smile. "Did you miss me?" Her voice was shrill and her hair wild.

"You're not real," the weakness in Delilah's voice was anything but comforting, and it only seemed to fuel the boggart further.

"Filthy little-"

"Riddikulus!"

Her wand was pointed squarely at Bellatrix's chest and the woman froze, glaring furiously at her and her form began to change.

Usually when a boggart is defeated, it's form turns into something one would typically find amusing. Such as Snape dressed like an old woman.

She blinked once before she was met with her change; a lifeless Bellatrix lying on the floor, wide eyed in her own pool of blood.

Delilah laughed.

Purely laughed to the point where her ribs hurt, her eyes crinkled, and her cheeks felt warm. Completely oblivious to those watching above.

Professors and students observing from the stands sat in a shocked silence, not knowing what they were watching. Or why on earth Delilah was laughing, her cries of amusement were audible even from how high they were.

Tom had stood up and walked to the edge, leaning his elbows on the railing as he observed with furrowed brows. Who was that woman on the ground? Why did Delilah feel such joy at the sight of her corpse?

He was aware she had used the killing curse, perhaps this is who she killed? He knew Delilah though, she wouldn't kill unless she had to. In using such a curse, so dark and forbidden, the caster had to _mean_ it. So who was that woman and what did she do?

Why had Delilah never told him about her before?

What a curious little thing she was, he mused as he watched the way her golden hair gleamed despite the lack of sunshine.

When Delilah got back up to the stands, she was met with either wide eyes, or people were avoiding looking at her in total. 

She wasn't really surprised, she did just laugh over a dead persons body.

Eventually Tom got called, and despite herself she stood up to get a better seat to view. He went through the trials easily, seeing as he made it across the maze in just over fifteen minutes. Everyone else took nearly thirty to forty minutes. That put Delilah in second place, she made it out in twenty two, which annoyed her.

When he emerged from the end she sat up straighter, beyond curious what his boggart would be. It would mostly likely involve death, considering what he's told her.

However, no one was able to register the sight below them before there was a flash of light. The boggart was gone, and in its place was a simple bush of white roses. Her mouth fell open slightly, how the hell did he defeat it so quickly. Yes, he's talented and is able to over come obstacles well. But these dark creatures take the form of ones greatest fear, it should be paralyzing, at least for a few seconds. 

________________________________

Tom had also been avoiding Delilah ever since what happened in Potions. He didn't want to speak to her until he found a logical reasoning as to why she was what he smelt. The 'object of his affections' was something his brain wouldn't allow him to accept.

After the exam was over however, their curiosity led them back to one another and they met in one of the closed off walkways in the back courtyard just as the rain started to pour.

The moment he was within ear shot, her question tumbled from her lips. "What did the boggart look like for you?"

He didn't respond until they were standing right in front of each other, barely a foot apart. Tom easily fired back a response as he lit a cigarette, "tell me who that woman was."

One hand was shoved in his pocket while the other lifted the tobacco to his lips as he looked down at her, taking all of her in. Her wind tousled hair, the freckles on her nose a bit more pronounced since she's been outside more, the blush to her cheeks, and the annoyed gleam in her royal blue eyes.

"Never gonna happen."

Tom shrugged, holding the cigarette by his teeth as he raised a hand to brush back the hair the wind had blown into his eyes. "It appears both of our questions will go unanswered, then."

Biting her cheek, Delilah rolled her eyes and did her best to ignore how the wind was swirling the fragrance of tobacco around her. It smelt awfully appealing mixed with the fragrance of rain.

"Fine, whatever. It was probably something stupid like a dementor."

He watched as she suddenly paled and a moment later she smacked his chest, earning herself a questioning glance. 

"Dementors! Fuck, I completely forgot they had them at the Ministry."

"Well if all goes smoothly, they won't be a problem."

A dry chuckle left her lips and she crossed her arms, "you have complete faith that absolutely nothing could go wrong? Since when are you an optimist?"

He grimaced slightly, "don't insult me. But yes I agree, we should prepare."

"Thank god you have me." 

Tom took a drag and pulled it away from his lips, holding the smoke for a moment as he looked her up and down. As he blew the smoke from his nose, he couldn't help the near smile on his lips. Again with the never ending surprises.

"You can cast a patronus?"

Delilah shrugged but couldn't help it as her features turned slightly smug. "Like I said, I'm a fantastic witch."

Before she consciously thought about it, she gave him a wink before walking off to her next exam.

He watched her go for a moment, taking one last hit before throwing the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it with his shoe.

"Yes, you are."

_________________________________

Later the next night, the group met up in the Room of Requirement. Everyone was tired due to exams, but Delilah made it seem urgent everyone came. 

"Does anyone know what the patronus charm actually is?" She asked, but was met with mostly blank stares. Tom began to open his mouth but she raised a finger to tell him to shut up.

"The patronus charm is the most famous and one of the most powerful defensive charms known to the wizarding world, it's also considered highly advanced. Which is why it's not added into any curriculum."

"Essentially, the charm conjures a magical guardian, a projection of all your most positive feelings in the form of an animal who you share an affinity with." She stepped away from the group and walked to the center of the room, she didn't know why she felt nervous.

Delilah turned towards everyone. "When you conjure it, think of your happiest memory. I'm not just saying a day you liked, I mean a moment that filled you with so much joy you couldn't even breathe."

Raising her wand, she cleared her throat, "expecto patronum!" A bright silver light shot out of her wand, temporarily blinding everyone in the room. Once their eyes adjusted, everyone watched with wide eyes as the form of a greyhound ran around, its ears perked up and alert, searching for danger. Once it concluded there was none, it blurred and disappeared.

"That was fantastic," Elio laughed, looking at Pyrrhus and Cain with some excitement.

Tom watched as Delilah began to teach Lolita and Olive how to move their wands properly. A slight gleam to his dark eyes as he watched her be the only one advanced enough in the room. Half of the teachers couldn't cast a patronus, yet there Delilah was. Performing such advanced magic with ease.

As soon as she walked away from them, with the full intent on going over to help Abraxas, Tom was suddenly standing in front of her.

"Why a greyhound?"

Craning her neck up, both were unaware of how close they were in that moment. If they inhaled deeply enough at the same time, their chests would probably brush against each other. 

"The Greyhound is an intelligent, gentle creature. Sure, they‘re fast when need to be and are prey-driven, but for the most part, they're calm." Delilah's eyes looked to her left and saw Elio already had some bursts of light coming from his wand.

"If your Patronus is a Greyhound, you've likely been wrongly accused of laziness or indifference by those who do not understand your calm disposition. You're not lazy at all. You know exactly what you want and focus your energies on your target, but you don't chase every opportunity. This focus allows you to live peacefully with others and not let every little thing upset you."

Tom mulled it over for a moment before humming, he supposed it rather was well fitting. Though when she was pissed off, all calm composure evaporated. Seeing as she's thrown him around a room and broke a few of his ribs.

He broke from his thoughts as her laughter met his ears, making him raise his brows in question at what could be so amusing.

"Bet your ass yours will be a snake. It's painfully obvious."

Rolling his eyes, he watched as Pyrrhus waved his wand in a poor attempt at casting the charm. "A snake would be nice, but admittedly ironic."

Delilah let out another laugh and her head fell forward, since they were so close her forehead came to rest on his sternum. His lips quirked up involuntarily.

He preferred Delilah being comfortable around him, it made everything easier.

Clearing her throat, remnants of laughter made her lips tug up into a smile. "Imagine if it were a lion? Now that would be perfect; Heir of Slytherin has a lion patronus."

They both stiffened the moment she called him the heir. 

"How do you know about that?"

Biting her lip, Delilah scratched the back of her neck and swallowed thickly. "Elio told me-"

"No. He said I was the heir that night, yes, but not what of. Other than that, none of the boys would dare tell you." 

Well shit.

Delilah turned her head, searching for a quick excuse, and she found that as a gleam if silver white hair caught her eye. "Oh no, Abraxas that's not remotely how you're supposed to move your wand." It was a weak and frankly pathetic attempt at getting away from this conversation, but her mind was moving a mile a minute. 

She went to leave but Tom stopped her, he meant to grad her arm but he wound up grabbing her hand instead. "Delilah, I think now is one of the times where you actually answer me."

Looking at their hands for a second, Delilah's mind registered how easily they molded together. "Later."

His dark eyes seemed void of any brown and became those bottomless pits, pulling her in and she gulped. She didn't want to have this conversation, she'd make something up, she just hoped it would be good enough. 

"Promise," giving his hand a squeeze, she let go.

__________________________________

After about an hour of everyone practicing, no one was able to get a full corporal patronus, but that was expected. It took Delilah nearly a year to get hers. Their only problem was they had only about a month till they went to the Ministry.

The ones closest however were Elio, Cain, and Lolita. They were able to produce a shadow of a figure, though no one was quite sure what animals they were yet.

Delilah was the last to leave the Room of Requirement, giving it one last once over seeing as it was their last week at Hogwarts.

With a slight sigh, she turned her back and began to walk down the dark halls, the only sound was the rattle of wind against the windows.

Making it to the third floor with no trouble, her peaceful walk was interrupted as footsteps fell in sync with hers.

"Care to explain now?" His voice was quiet, but it swirled around her, between her hair, and appeared to sink into her skin. Had it always had that slight rasp?

With a defeated sigh, Delilah shrugged and kept her gaze focused out in front of her. "It wasn't hard to put together, do you take me for an idiot?" She wasn't met with a response, showing he wasn't in the mood for her usual bantering. He wanted to get right to the point.

"Okay fine. You were put in Slytherin, have a ridiculous amount of pretentiousness and house pride, Elio flat out called you 'the heir', and you have the stereotypical blood prejudice beliefs. Plus that whole story of you in fifth year, protecting the school and what not from the heir. Even though you’re it.”

They came to a stop and stared at each other, he didn't appear angry, which was a relief. "And you believe you have to live up to all that nonsense, which is ridiculous. Appreciate and recognize where you come from, but never let it define you."

There was a breath of silence and he bit his cheek, "what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Where do you come from? What makes you who you are, Delilah Pontmercy; gifted witch. I know next to nothing about you, yet you seem to know everything about me."

"Perhaps that's best."

Tom took an unconscious step closer, "no, I don't think it is."

Delilah backed up and hit the wall, the cold stone shooting straight through her clothes. She could nearly feel him. "Why do all these conversations always end up with me being pushed against a wall?"

Tom raised a hand and pressed it against the space next to her head, the stone sending its own shockwaves of a chill through him. "Don't put your back to a wall, then."

"You could just not back me into one."

"I could."

Both of them failed to notice how the distance between them was dwindling by the second. Closer and closer.

"But you won't."

The smell of him filled her up like wine filled up a generous glass, nearly even making her feel intoxicated. And the smell of peppermint hit him like a train on a track.

"No, I won't."

A tingle rippled through them as their noses brushed, but the feeling left just as quickly as it came when the sound of footsteps nearing a corner met their ears.

Tom backed away from her but Delilah felt stuck to the wall.

Noticing she wasn't about to move anytime soon, he sighed through his nose and grabbed her hand, tugging her into an enclave about five feet away.

Now there was definitely no space between them, their bodies were pressed together and both seemed to be holding their breath. The footsteps grew louder and Tom slowly looked around the edge. After a moment he pulled back.

Before she could register what was happening, Tom bent his head down and his cheek brushed against hers, warm and inviting. His lips and soft breath tickled her ear as he spoke in a whisper, "head girl is doing her rounds."

He pulled back and she felt so dizzy she'd probably collapse if it weren't for his body pressing her into the wall. Again.

They simply stared at each other in the pale moonlight as they waited for the head girl to turn down a different hallway.

The feeling of her chest rising and falling against his made his mind feel a bit slower than usual, he didn't know what to do with himself.

As soon as the hall was clear, Tom stepped out and Delilah's arm shot forward to rest against the opposite wall for balance. Her legs were shaking.

"See you tomorrow," with that Tom left, his pace a bit quick but Delilah paid no mind seeing as she could barely breathe. Once the hall was empty again, she slid down the wall and buried her hands in her hair.

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

Little did she know Tom had fallen against the wall two halls down, his shoulder being the only thing holding him up, and muttering the exact same sentence.

He could still feel all of her pressed against all of him, their legs intertwined together. His mind reeled back to the boggart earlier that day and he squeezed his eyes shut, hitting his head against the stone wall painfully hard in an attempt to make the memory go away.

It was his own corpse, laying stiff on the floor. That wasn’t even the worst part, however. The worst part was the blonde staring down at his bloodied body apathetically before turning and walking away, not caring that he was dead and gone.

A heavy sigh left her lungs as she pulled her knees up, pressing her eyes against them to the point where dots scattered behind her eyes.

The guillotine had finally fallen.


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

"Look at you," Lolita gave Delilah a warm smile as she eyed her in the mirror, adjusting her robes. Delilah gave her a small smile in return before turning back to her reflection, a thoughtful gleam in her eyes.

The brunette raised a brow as she fixed her hair, "what's on your mind, Del?"

"Nothing, it's just..." turning, she sat on her bed and let her fingers run over the soft fabric for the last time. "I never thought I'd actually make it to graduation." Seeing as Delilah had spent every waking hour avoiding being killed back in her own time. She didn't even think she'd live to see her eighteenth birthday.

Lolita laughed lightly, "me neither, considering some of my grades." Delilah forced a chuckle and nodded before looking at the mirror.

The door swung open and they were greeted with Olive, looking pristine as ever. Her eyes raked over them both before an annoyed huff passed her lips. "Why on earth are you two not ready yet? Delilah, where's your cap? We have to be down there in ten minutes."

Lolita and Delilah eyed each other with looks of amusement before picking up their pace. Halfheartedly shoving her cap on her head, she made haste out the door and nearly tripped down the stairs due to her heels. She hadn't worn heels in months.

"Graceful as ever," Pyrrhus teased and gave her wink as she returned the gesture with a choice of finger.

"Where's Riddle?" Lolita asked while Cain threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in close while placing a chaste kiss to her cheek. They were adorable. "He's having a final meeting with the professors, being Valedictorian and all." Abraxas muttered while he checked his reflection in the mirror.

"Are you excited?" Elio's voice drew Delilah's attention and she nodded once, a hand reaching up to mess with her necklace but all she could feel was the imprint; it was tucked under her robes. "I'm nervous I'll fall while getting my diploma."

A light laughed passed his lips as his hands raised to fix her cap, seeing as she put it on crooked, "you'll look wonderful."

_________________________________

Rows upon rows of chairs were set up on the bay of the Great Lake, the soft spring air twirling through the lines of students anxiously awaiting for the ceremony to start. On both sides there was seating for family, friends, et cetera. Delilah having no one, though she found some comfort in not being the only one. Tom's parents weren't there either.

Would he be happy if they were? If his relationship with them had been different, would his parents be proud? Their one and only son, Valedictorian of Hogwarts, class of 1944.

She would like to think so, but reality poisoned that thought.

At the front was a stage which held the staff and Tom, a fashioned golden podium front and center. A hush fell over the crowd as Dippet stood up, waving to students and guests alike with a beaming smile. "Congratulations, you've made it!" He cheered, his voice echoing loudly across the mass and the water behind him.

He was met with cheers, whistles, and claps, Delilah joining in, allowing herself this moment of joy. Dippet went on with a speech explaining how proud he was of each and every one of his students, even reminiscing in a few choice entertaining stories. Next were the four heads of houses, and Delilah might've cheered a bit too much as a Slytherin for Dumbledore. She made a mental note to talk to him after the ceremony.

When Slughorn finished, tears seemed to shine in his eyes when he cleared his throat, "now, I have the ultimate privilege to bring forward one of my own students, who's exceedingly bright and our Valedictorian, Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

As expected, everyone broke out into cheers, even guests. Not only was he the schools golden boy, but he had made his presence known out in the world with some high names. Delilah clapped half heartedly, not feeling sure of herself for what felt like the millionth time. There she was, cheering on Lord Voldemort for graduating.

Life was strange.

There was a moment of breathlessness experienced however when Tom stood up, looking beautiful in his robes that somehow made him seem more poised. His head was held high, pride in every step as he walked up to the podium. Shaking hands with Slughorn, he turned to the audience with a charming smile that knocked the wind out of quite a few people.

Delilah herself included.

Since he was Valedictorian, he had a golden stole draped over his shoulders that gleamed in the sun. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," his voice curved and bent in all the right ways as he addressed everyone, a deep and alluring baritone. Tom's eyes ran over the students collected in front of him, his gaze faltering for a second as they connected with royal blue.

Biting his cheek for only a moment, his smile returned in full force and he placed his hands on the podium, the cool material calming him slightly. "It is an honor to be standing before you all today."

Delilah restrained herself from rolling her eyes, honor her ass, Tom knew damn well he would always be top of the class.

"As young adults, there's a sense of immortality embedded into us, life feels ever lasting, events never stop."

A respectful silence fell over like fine drapery, Delilah found herself leaning forward absentmindedly, awaiting his next words with a feeling of strong curiosity.

"This is normal, and expected. We're graduating. However, the past seven years at Hogwarts have passed quicker than most of us have realized. We came in with eyes filled with wonder and a hunger. Now we're departing with a new understanding, but that crave for more is still ever present. Waiting just beyond, past the mountains."

He gestured with a hand and everyone's eyes followed. It was always fascinating to see how expertly Tom could work a crowd. Not just his diction, but the way he presented himself. He was charismatic and seductive in a way that appealed to everyone.

"Hogwarts is, and always will be, eternal. For all of us. Personally, I feel indebted to the school as it became my real sense of home and belonging." 

"Memories we hold will keep this castle bound to history forever, and it will grow with each passing year. Memories that will put a lightness within us that make us feel invincible. Like witnessing the enchanted ceiling for the first time, learning your first spell, passing an impossible exam, or discovering a hidden corridor."

Tom's mind went back to when he first witnessed Hogwarts in all its beauty. The castle standing tall and glowing in the late September night, a soft breeze carrying the boats across the lake. He knew then and there, this was his home. This is where he belonged.

He never felt true happiness like that before.

"Even memories that may seem less convenient hold such great value. For example, falling into the Great Lake, not minding that it's freezing due to good company. Or even getting sent into the infirmary due to the aftermath of a challenging duel. These are the memories that validate the immortality we feel as teenagers."

Delilah was hanging onto every word, a weightlessness hitting her like a train on a track when he brought up two memories involving her. No one else. She couldn't help the deep blush flooding her cheeks, she felt warm all over. However, Delilah paled as she remembered potions and that night in the hallway only a few days prior.

They had been so close.

"But endings are vital, or else nothing would ever get started. Endings give everything meaning. I've come to understand this more than ever. I state this, today, to remind us time is a privilege."

Tom couldn't help it as his eyes latched onto golden blonde hair. His time with Delilah was a privilege, he understood that now. Seeing as he's almost lost her a handful of times due to his own errors in judgment.

"Don't waste your life to fulfill the expectations of those around you. Make your life amount to something. Never give up, never give in, fight for what you hold dear. I stress this, now is more important than ever."

He knew his wording had to be careful, considering a few choice guests were Grindelwald supporters. A fact unknown to most. Of course Tom knew, though.

"We've come of age, and we will be greeted by a world filled with turmoil and lack of filter. For the past seven years we've been protected, but now that shield is lifting. My understanding is, we're all ecstatic to immerse ourselves in the world that's awaiting us. I encourage this, wholeheartedly."

Delilah felt her mind go numb for a moment as Tom looked at her. She didn't understand what she was feeling or why. Part of her didn't mind, seeing as it felt euphoric. The other half was terrified.

"But I also caution, as it can be cruel. Do not go into your life ignorant. Be ready with an open mind and awareness when you step off that glittering crimson Hogwarts Express for the last time. Because in the end, reality hurts without discrimination."

"I recognize some might not grasp this, or some might blindly nod along. It's easy to feel a sense of optimism on a day such as this. There will be dark days however, its inevitable."

Delilah suddenly felt cold as his words sunk it. He'd be the root cause for those dark days. The darkest of which the Wizarding world had ever seen. He'd be the cause for so much pain.

"Latch onto those memories, tether yourself to them. No matter how repressed they become, you must keep them alive. They are what guide us. We must be greater than that of which we've suffered."

"As I look around here today, at all the people who've shaped me into who I am today, they also help me recognize who I am meant to be. Some might say the future Minister."

There was a sudden fit of laughter and eyes turned to Slughorn, who was wiping tears away from his eyes and wiping at a running nose. He looked so proud of Tom, it was almost endearing.

"Some a professor, and for some, simply a good man."

Delilah and Tom's eyes latched onto one another, and within a second it was as if they were the only two in existence. White noise surrounded their bodies, forming tunnel vision on one another. It was nearly an out of body experience.

"Our time together is up, and I am grateful for each second. As we get into those boats, the very vessels that started our journey, I want to thank you for making these years some of the best. I will not forget one line of it, I swear."

His lips formed into a closed mouthed, almost somber smile as his eyes trailed up to the sky. Observing the clouds for a moment, watching how they formed such peculiar shapes, "I'd like to personally thank Aaron Cloverfield. You led me to the true enlightenment."

Turning his eyes back onto the crowd, his charming smile grew again, bright white teeth shining. "Thank you," he bowed his head in benediction as he was met with a loud round of applause.

Delilah joined in, though she was sure over half of his speech was utter bullshit. Tom had a way with words, that didn't mean a word he spoke was true. To him at least, did he even grasp the concept of what he was talking about?

Who was Aaron Cloverfield? She's never heard Tom mention that name before.

________________________________

Dippet went down the line of students alphabetically, calling each name proudly. For every student called, they would shake hands with the heads of houses, Tom, and then Dippet as he handed them their diploma.

First was Cain, later followed by Aleksander, and Olive.

"Pyrrhus Lestrange."

He was met with cheers and Delilah gave him a whistle as the boy practically strutted up to the stage, a boyish smile lighting up his features. Pyrrhus blew a kiss to Cosette, they've been hanging out with each other a lot lately. When he got up to the stage, he shook all the professors hands and gave a nod to Tom before walking up to Dippet.

"Bet you never saw this coming," Pyrrhus beamed, waving around his diploma for all to see.

Abraxas was called next, and a few minutes later her breath caught in her throat.

"Delilah Pontmercy."

Standing on shaking legs, Delilah turned around and shot Elio a nervous smile, and he gave her a thumbs up. She was met with more claps than expected, Delilah was unaware of this, but she was fairly well liked despite people still being slightly afraid of her.

After all, she nearly killed Tom Riddle in class.

Walking up the steps felt surreal, she was actually graduating, she did it. She made it. She was alive, here and now.

She shook hands with the heads of houses, and when she got to Dumbledore, the smile on her lips pained her cheeks. He raised his other hand and patted her on the cheek, his eyes twinkling, "well done."

"Thank you, sir."

Slughorn apparently couldn't help himself as he shook her shoulders slightly, "you'll do wonderful things my dear, wonderful!"

Clearing her throat, Delilah kept her eyes on the ground as she walked over to Tom, raising a trembling hand to shake his. But as she looked up, she couldn't help let a laugh slip. He probably despised having to shake everyone's hand. Especially when he had to with Aleksander.

"Well done, Pontmercy," he slightly raised a brow due to her amused expression, but he knew now wasn't the time to ask.

"You too." Tom gave her a nod and his lips tilted up at the sarcasm glittering in her eyes.

Despite how infuriating she was at times, she knew him rather well.

Walking up to Dippet, she grabbed her diploma with one hand and shook with the other. "Congratulations, Miss Pontmercy."

"Thank you," she shot a bright smile towards the audience and couldn't help the pure joy she felt as her friends clapped and whistled.

The ceremony went on, Tom was next followed by Elio. Who looked beyond hesitant to shake Tom's hand, but it would look too suspicious if he didn't. Finally the last of her friends was called, and Lolita walked the isle as if it was a runway. 

She looked beautiful and she knew it, even shooting Cain a wink as he whistled at her.

_________________________________

After the ceremony was over, students greeted their friends and family, all with wide smiles. Delilah herself made a beeline for Dumbledore. Once the professor noticed the gleam of blonde, he politely excused himself from Dippet and offered her a wide smile.

"Congratulations, my dear."

Not being able to help herself, Delilah threw her arms around the old wizard and gave him a tight hug, something she didn't do too often. A light laugh left Dumbledore's lips and he patted her on the back.

It was odd, Dumbledore smelt like old books but also magic, pure magic. "Thank you," she pulled back, looking up at the ancient yet young man in front of her. "For everything, truly."

He pushed up his spectacles and looked down at her, "you speak as if this is the last time we'll ever be in acquaintance."

"Well I just thought, with me no longer being in the school-"

"Delilah, these are trying times. Especially for yourself, and for what is about to come, meaning you returning home. Don't ever think you'll have to do that alone, I'm always here. Owl whenever you please."

Her cheeks hurt as she smiled again, today had been wonderful, she hasn't felt so elated in months. "I will, thank you."

"And thank you, Miss Pontmercy."

"For what?" Looking down at her hands, which held her diploma, her smile faltered slightly. She's the only one of her friends who's actually gotten to graduate.

"You've been through so much, you've experienced so much more than a person your age could even fathom. Often, that destroys people."

Looking up at him, Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling, but they were so much younger than the rest of him.

"Trauma such as you've been through often ruins our relationship with time. The loss of continuity leads to the inability to imagine a future. But look at you, striving onward head-fast."

Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gestured to the crowd around them, to her friends. "You've accomplished so much."

"Sir," she began, taking a pause to consider her words. "I know I'm not supposed to say anything but, you're going to be spectacular. Absolutely, and completely spectacular."

Dumbledore smiled warmly and straightened his robes, "my dear, I already am."

________________________________

Wood creaked and shifted as her and many other graduates walked along the docks, the water waning and teasing its way through the cracks, yet never succeeding.

Delilah stood off to the side, arms wrapped around herself as she simply observed everyone. Her trunk sat to her left, filled with clothes that weren't really hers, minus her red converse.

Looking over her shoulder, she spotted her reflection and it was a stranger. Perhaps it wasn't, she's been met with this image for months. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to the boats.

The same boats everyone took to the castle their first year. They were a symbolic means for returning to innocence, back across the water.

However as she watched a select few, like Abraxas, get onto his own boat. Delilah knew he was heading for something much more dark, full of corruption and pain.

Her shoulder went stiff as she got hit with the notion of having the power to end it all. Right there, here and now. Delilah could save so many lives, stop so much destruction. All she had to do was raise her wand. Or warn them.

At the sight of Tom making his way down the dock, she knew she couldn't.

Not only because the timeline would implode on itself with endless paradoxes being produced. It was because of him, simply him.

Delilah couldn't tear Tom down like that. If she told the world what he would become, two things could happen. One, she could be thrown in an institution for being mental. Two, Tom would be chucked in Azkaban for the rest of his days, not even being given an opportunity at life. 

As she looked at him, walking with sure steps, the wind ruffling his hair, a content look on his features. Right now, he was so full of it. Delilah couldn't kill him, she could never bring herself to. Even the thought troubled her.

Damn him.

Tom was giving a polite smile to someone who was saying their goodbyes before he stopped in front of Delilah. He appeared even taller due to her leaning against a post.

The wind was tossing her hair around, though it avoided her face. Zephyrus must be on her side today. Her joyful spirit had obviously dwindled due to her looking up at him oddly, her lips tugged down in a slight frown.

"What's wrong?"

His smooth voice snapped her out of her head. Both seemed unaware of the lack of space between them. That appeared to be happening a lot lately.

"You."

Tom nearly rolled his eyes, a gesture practically screaming 'what've I done this time?'. Before he could comment, Delilah started off again.

"Me. Everything, I don't know. You-" she took a deep breath and rubbed at her eyes till stars appeared. Sighing slightly, Tom bent forward and picked up her trunk. He never knew when her mood would suddenly shift.

Grabbing her hand to tug her into a standing position, he then placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her to one of the enchanted boats. The feeling of his hand sent a whirlwind of _something_ through her, and it felt good.

Once they got seated, Tom directly in front of her, his leg between hers since the boat wasn't that spacious. It was strange, he remembered the boats being much larger when he was eleven.

As they began to move through the water, Tom watched Delilah. How her nose twitched every so often, a simple tick she had. He then began to wonder what his life would've been like if she had been at Hogwarts with him since first year. Would anything be different?

He... cared for her. He could admit that now, at least to himself.

"I'm supposed to hate you," Delilah blurted suddenly. Tom blinked away the new revelation he'd reached and raised a brow at her in question. She wasn't looking at him though, instead she watched as the water rippled around her fingers as the boat moved.

"But I don't." Her own brows were furrowed, looking ultimately conflicted. If only he knew the extent of it.

"And I am so confused. Why don't I hate you?" Finally looking at Tom, the lost expression in his eyes made everything worse. Why couldn't he look like the monster buried so deeply under the surface? That'd make it so much easier.

"I wasn't even aware that you liked me," he teased. Masking the relief he felt bloom in his chest. However, why did Delilah look so shaken over the fact?

No, that's a ridiculous question. She had every right to hate him.

Delilah looked back at the water. She didn't _like_ Tom, but she didn't hate him. No, she knew what true, unadulterated hatred felt like. It felt like the softest of winds yet also the violence of a bad storm. Delilah felt it towards him, at one point.

Overtime it had disappeared without her noticing, without her consent. She hated what Tom would become, yes. She hated Voldemort for what he did to Harry, the world, and what he did to himself.

She didn't hate Tom Riddle.

"Why don't I?" Delilah asked again, she needed an answer. For once, somebody had to give her a proper explanation.

Tom rubbed at his cheek before putting his own hand in the chilled water. Watching how ripples from her hand met his. "I truly don't know." He didn't like not knowing.

________________________________

As they stepped off the glittering crimson Hogwarts Express for the last time, they were met with the bustling crowd of Kings Cross Station.

Delilah fell in step next to Olive as the group weaved their way between people to get to a clearing, safe enough for each of them to apparate.

Elio led them all to a decently sectioned off area, he seemed a bit anxious and Delilah couldn't blame him. The Ministry plan was growing closer by the minute.

"Ready?" He asked everyone, and he was met with a series of nods. "You all remember the location? Rosier Summer Manor?"

"Yes! For the love of Merlin, let's go." Cain griped, spinning on his heal and disapparating with a crack. Delilah raised a brow at Lolita and she shrugged slightly, "he gets a bit grumpy on long rides."

Then one after another, each of them spun, Delilah following soon after Abraxas. However, just as the train station warped away from her, she saw a flash of bright red hair and the yellow robes of a Hufflepuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schools been taking up a lot of time so I apologize!!


	30. Chapter Thirty

As Delilah turned on the spot, Kings Cross warped away from her, as well as the girl. Before she could process, everything went black. Delilah was being pressed from all directions, she couldn't breathe. It felt like iron bands were tightening around her ribs, constricting her lungs. Her eyes were being pressed into the back her head as her ear drums were being pushed deeper into her skull.

The feeling came and went in the blink of an eye.

Falling to the ground, her hands and knees pressed into a plush rug with a fanciful embroidered design.

A hand was suddenly on her back and she flinched, but when a wave of cigarettes hit her she went still. Tom pulled her into a sitting position on her knees, brushing the hair out of her face and placing his hands on her cheeks, willing Delilah to look at him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The concern of something went poorly during her apparation occurred to mind, but there didn't appear to be any signs of splinching. Thank Merlin.

Taking deep breaths, Delilah focused on the warmness of his eyes, they appeared to be more open in that moment.

Then she remembered the girl, that bloody red headed Hufflepuff with the Sight.

She desperately wanted to tell someone. Badly. Desperately. Why was this urgency hitting her now? After months. She felt like she was going to explode.

Part of her yearned to tell Tom, get his unique perspective, however she knew she couldn't.

"Nothing. Sorry, just dizzy."

He gave her the look indicating he didn't believe her, but with the narrowing of her eyes, he dropped it.

Since Tom didn't appear to be helping her up any time soon, Elio made his way over and offered his hand.

Smiling at him, he tugged her up lightly and held onto her arms as she caught her balance. "Let's get you a cup of tea."

"Whiskey would be better," she muttered. Her mind was reeling, what the hell was that girl doing at Kings Cross? Had she been following Delilah this whole time without her knowing?

"None of that," Tom chided, "we both know alcohol isn't your friend."

Slapping his arm, Delilah didn't need nor want to remember that dreadfully embarrassing night she showed up to his dormitory. "Shut up."

Having been so preoccupied since she arrived, Delilah had failed to notice the beauty of the foyer they were in. Cain opened large glass doors with gold encrusting that lead out onto a balcony. It was fashioned white marble, intricately carved and flowers seemed to envelope any empty space.

Stepping out, a breeze shifted through her hair and the smell of salt surrounded her. "Where are we exactly?"

"Étretat, it's a small commune, we're on the north coast of France." Lolita let her fingers drift over the flowers, the pedals feeling soft against her palm. "It's beautiful here, you'll love it."

The girls shared a smile and Lolita looped her arm with Delilah, "c'mon, I'll show you around the manor."

Everyone split up when they left the foyer, wanting to pick their favorite room for themselves. Delilah was in awe in each hall she was led down. Everything was so bright yet warm here, a stark contrast to both Avery's Manor and the Malfoy Manor.

The walls were a soft creme white with gold crusting, paintings hung every ten feet, all beautiful portraits or landscapes. The floors were a dark hard wood, and running throughout the middle was a light gray, almost purple carpet with gold weavings. 

By the time they got to the third floor, which is where all the rooms resided, Lolita broke off to join Cain to do who knows what. Though the cheeky glint in his eyes left little to the imagination as his fiancé pranced into their shared room.

Shaking her head, she started to walk down the opposite way to find a room of her liking. Before she could make it five feet, someone took hold of her arm and pulled her into a dark space, shortly followed by the sound of a door closing.

"The hell-"

Suddenly candles came alight, casting the room in a warm orange glow and she was met with the amused expression of Tom looking down at her. Pursing her lips, Delilah smacked him on the chest, "stop doing that."

He simply looked at her, expectant.

Sighing through her nose, Delilah's eyes danced around the room in order to avoid his piercing gaze. It was gorgeous in here.

The light walls soaked in the orange hue of the many flames. The flooring was the same dark hardwood, but an elegant tapestry was spread out in front of the fireplace, which had a massive mirror hanging above it. Pushed against the center of the back wall was a massive bed draped in fine, red silk. It was strikingly vibrant against the white walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, which was also encrusted with corinthian like leaves.

A bookshelf was split in two on either side of the bed, filled to the brim with novels and magical books. Next to the large windows, which had heavy white-golden drapery blocking out the sun, was a dark wooden desk that already had scrolls and more of Tom's research spread out.

On the left wall were massive French doors that opened to the bathroom and closet. From what she could see, white marble ran throughout it and there was a large tub fashioned from the same material but with golden lining.

Willing herself to look at him, his expression hadn't wavered. There were so many things she wanted to tell Tom, but she never could.

"I told you, I got dizzy."

"Of course."

The door then swung open and they were met with Aleksander, Olive, and Pyrrhus. Olive whistled as she peaked her head in, "of course you two would get the best room."

Delilah's brows furrowed at the suggestion her and Tom would be sharing a room. Before she could open her mouth, Pyrrhus was already speaking, "never thought I'd see the day when Riddle is finally with a girl, let alone sharing a room like this. I mean look at that bed."

Delilah flushed at his comment, her cheeks nearly felt on fire. Tom's eyes hadn't wavered from her and that made it much worse. Aleksander patted Pyrrhus on the back, "it's about time, though. Honestly, it's been getting a little old watching you two."

Seeing the girls obvious discomfort, Olive hid a smile as she began to tug the two boys out of the doorway. "Right, sorry. We'll leave you to it."

"There's nothing-" Delilah's sentence didn't have a chance to finish as the door clicked shut. Rubbing at her eyes, she could nearly feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. "That was down right embarrassing."

"What was?"

Looking up, Delilah was nearly surprised at the obliviousness on his face. "They- never mind Mr. Spock."

"Who?"

Delilah pressed her lips together and her hands rested on her hips as she stared at him, "oh, it's so fitting." She sighed slightly and began to make her way towards the door.

"Gather everyone in the drawing room," he called and Delilah spun on her heel. "Why?"

"Business needs to be attended to," he made his way over to the desk, beginning to rifle through his papers as he muttered a few things to himself quietly.

Delilah opened her mouth to protest but stopped short. He was right, no time should be wasted.

However he noticed her silence and pinched the bridge of his nose before resting his hands on his desk, the room already smelt like peppermint and the painful reminder of potions class hit him. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

Rolling his shoulders slightly, Tom turned and leaned against the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked at her. The way she seemed to glow in the candlelight was a fascinating sight. "We've known each other long enough to tell when the other is being untruthful."

Pushing off the desk, his long legs carried him across the room swiftly and he stopped half a foot in front of her. "What do you want to say?"

"No, it's stupid."

"Delilah."

Damn him. "I wanted a bit of freelance time before we dove straight in. I want some time to enjoy myself before, y'know." She cleared her throat, not allowing herself to say it out loud. Soon she'd be gone, back in her own time, never seeing any of them again. Never seeing Tom again.

She might see Voldemort, in fact it appears inevitable. Would knowing him now, in this time, make facing him more difficult or easy? Delilah was sure she knew him more than anyone in the whole world, but on the other hand Voldemort is a complete different person, a creature.

That also gave her an even greater incentive to take him down, he's destroyed everything beautiful about himself. 

"You're right though we should," she stopped speaking when she noted he was biting his cheek and he looked like he was struggling to say something. Which was a bit disconcerting, he always knew what to say.

After a lengthly pause, Tom having a full on mental debate with himself, he pulled one hand out of his pockets and ran it through his hair. "Alright."

"What?"

"Alright. We can get started tomorrow morning."

Delilah raised a brow at him, her eyes searching his for an explanation. "But you said-"

"I changed my mind."

"You never change your mind."

"Lately, that appears to be all I've been doing." Most of it was her fault, too.

Delilah eyed him for a moment before nodding, "alright."

"Alright."

She began to back away towards the door, he was acting weird, the air felt tense. "I'll just fetch the others then."

He waved her off and turned his back to go back to his desk, "do what you like."

Biting her own cheek, Delilah couldn't stop thinking about how she's going to deal with losing Tom Riddle when she gets back to her own time. She wanted to kill Voldemort, she wanted to make him bleed to remind him of the human he had decimated. The wonderful and charming, yet infuriating Tom Riddle.

She opened the door but paused, closing her eyes tightly, she turned and cleared her throat. Tom rolled his eyes and looked over his shoulder with a brow raised in impatience.

"What about you? What're you going to do?"

Tom shrugged and gestured to his mess of a desk, "I have studying to-" he stopped when she groaned rather dramatically.

"Tom we've literally just graduated, put your damn books down just this once and have some fun." There's a brief pause and she didn't know if she liked the way he had looked her up and down.

"What? With you?"

Not allowing that to offend her, Delilah raised her chin and let a smile spread across her lips, "yes, with me."

"No."

Scrunching her nose, her shoulders fell in disappointment. "Why not?"

Tom opened his mouth to retort but quickly reached the conclusion he didn't have a justifiable reason. His silence was met with Delilah's grin and he huffed slightly before closing his journal.

Damn her.

He rolled his neck, a sight she was not prepared for, and he began to walk towards the bathroom. "What do you have in mind, Pontmercy?"

Absentmindedly following him through the bathroom and into the massive closet, she held up her index finger. "First, no more calling me Pontmercy, it's Delilah you piece of shit."

He raised his brows at her while he was rifling through his shirts, her swearing was always an amusement. "Second, I don't know. Exploring. Have you ever even been to France?"

"Twice."

Raising an arm, her fingers danced over all his shirts, the fabric was so soft. "Did you ever even leave the manor grounds?"

With his lack of a reply she dropped her arm and turned towards him, "thought so. Get dressed, meet me at the main staircase in fifteen minutes."

She began to walk out, elated she was getting to have a bit of free time for once.

"Ten minutes," Tom called and she turned around and felt her eyes go slightly wide. He was halfway done undoing the buttons of his shirt, his lightly toned chest peaking through. 

A blush lit her cheeks on fire and she scolded herself, this isn't the first time she's seen him shirtless. Rocking on her feet for a second, she muttered a "fine" before whirling around and leaving out the door.

Unaware of the cocky grin he was sporting. 

However as he heard his door shut, his lips fell into a near frown and his movements paused. She'd be leaving soon, for good according to her.

Tom hadn't been allowing himself to think about it, whenever he did it made his chest feel tight to the point of it being nearly painful. He didn't understand.

Shaking his head, he shrugged off his shirt and carelessly tossed it behind him. Even if she did return home, why would that make her incapable of ever seeing him- no.

Why would that make her incapable of ever seeing any of her friends again? Surely she'd want to visit Elio. Despite them breaking up, they remained rather good friends. 

He undid his pants and they fell to the floor in a heap, causing Tom to kick them off to the side as he searched for a decent outfit.

Although at the thought of Elio never being able to see her again didn't cause Tom too much strain. However, he knew the boy meant something to Delilah, and having that being taken away from her felt wrong. 

Yet there she was, severing herself from them all by her own choice. Did she really care for them so little?

Her parents resided in France, her home she kept rambling about.

Were they perhaps controlling? He shook his head again, for one Delilah was legally an adult, she could leave home and use whatever magic she pleased. Plus, controlling Delilah didn't seem remotely possible. If he couldn't do it, surely no mediocre wizards could.

Tom didn't think she'd mind him insulting her parents, she even said her relationship with them wasn't the best. At that thought he froze as he began to button up a new shirt. 

If she had such a poor relationship with her parents, why on earth was she so keen to get back to them?

"Delilah Pontmercy," He said to himself as he walked into the bathroom, fixing his hair a bit in the mirror.

"You are the only mystery worth solving."

_________________________________

Tom was leaning against the railing, looking at his pocket watch as it ticked down the seconds. There was a thump followed by a hushed curse. Looking up, he was restraining a smirk at the sight of Delilah hopping on one foot and she tried to get her shoe on.

"How lady-like."

"Shut the fuck up." 

Finally getting her blasted shoe on, Delilah blew the hair out of her face only for it to fall back in her eyes. Giving up as she made her way towards him, she put it up in a messy knot of golden hair. 

Snapping his watch shut he began down the stairs, Delilah right behind him.

It was odd seeing Tom in more casual wear. He wore a thin white shirt, the top three buttons undone due to the summer heat, and they were tucked into his dark grey trousers.

She could get used to the sight.

"Well don't you two look fetching." 

They stopped just as they reached the foot of the stairs. Looking to their left, Aleksander and Olive were looking at them with a suggestive gleam in their eyes.

"Olive, hey." Delilah herself was looking between the two, they were standing rather close and though it was hard to make it out from her perspective, she was sure Aleksander had a hand on her back. She knew he fancied Olive, but she didn't know if any progress had been made.

Other than that observation, Delilah didn't know what to do with herself and her friend got the hint. Olive gave her a wink, "I like your summer dress, trés chic."

Delilah found herself blushing for the millionth time that day at the glint in Aleksander's eyes. Clearing her throat, she twirled her necklace and muttered a thank you.

A barely audible sigh left Tom's lips, he was tired of being interrupted. "We don't have all day."

Olive gave them a smirk before looping her arm with Aleksander and disappearing down some corridor.

"Where to?" He asked as the massive oak doors shut behind them.

"Lolita said the main part of town is down that way, as well as the beach." He nodded and began to turn on his heel but her arm shot out to stop him from apparating. "No, I want to walk." Her tone suggested no room for argument and he halfheartedly gestured for her to lead the way.

The walk was short, only about fifteen minutes, the cobblestone road making an easy path. The main part of town was busting with tall and narrow buildings, people weaving throughout the crowd with a destination in mind. Along the boardwalk families and couples could be seen enjoying the beach.

Delilah pointed out a small bakery that she wanted to visit and Tom begrudgingly bought some bread and cheese for an early and makeshift dinner. They ate as they walked along the boardwalk, Delilah wanted to go down to the beach but Tom refused, saying how much of a nuisance sand was.

However as they walked, he noticed the ocean air somewhat smelt like her, even how the breeze felt.

They weren't paying too much attention to where they were walking, taking blind turns down streets and cutting between buildings. Delilah was rambling about how her brother once choked on a crepe when she suddenly stopped walking. Tom looked at her for an explanation, following her gaze his eyes landed on an old house.

It was incredibly old. That wasn't all however, he himself suddenly felt enraptured. There was a pull to it, an aura that made one yearn and want to come closer. It felt like magic. 

Delilah craned her neck up and down the street, but it was empty. The only two things that seemed to exist in the world in that moment was the house and them.

They look at each other then, both being able to realize the insatiable curiosity felt deep in their bones. "What do you suppose this place is?" She asked, hurrying after Tom since he was already making his way up the steps. His mannerisms appeared to be that of an excited child. 

"I haven't the faintest clue," he mumbled while his wand pointed in multiple directions, checking for wards and any other forms of security that may be hiding. 

Despite his curiosity, he was still cautious. This place felt different, _more_ , dangerous. With Delilah at his side, Merlin knows something could go disastrously wrong.

Oddly enough, the old house appeared to be harmless. So what was it's source? Tom tried the doorknob and it creaked open, the movement causing dust to waft up into the air inside.

Delilah followed him in shortly after, her eyes dancing around the dark and damp home. It had obviously been abandoned for a long time. There was a build up of grime on the windows and the furniture had a thick layer of dust making everything appear grey.

That ache in her chest felt like a punch when she passed the entrance of a narrow hallway. Backing up, the dark hall looked daunting yet inviting all at once, calling her to walk forward, to come look at see.

"What are you?" She whispered, her voice bounced between the cracks in the floor, the boards wailing with each step forward.

Was this the source of magic that drew her attention in the first place? It had to be, but what was it? She knew she should probably call out to Tom, have him accompany her, but Delilah felt intoxicated.

When she reached the end of the hall, there were two doors, one on each side of her. Both were also opened, but what was inside was a mystery, it was pitch black. Delilah made to grab for her wand, but a bright blue light lit up on her left. 

There was something alluring about the light, something nearly seductive. Like the gentle touch of a lover with a hand on her waist, Delilah felt herself being guided, drawn, dragged towards it.

She felt no fear.

The deeper she went into the room, the more she was able to take in. However the room was strange, the floor seemed to be like damp rock, and looking forward- though she had to squint her eyes due to the light- she realized the walls were stone too, but directly across from her there seemed to be an opening that led somewhere yet nowhere. 

As she continued to stare into the black void in front of her, a chill ran up her spine.

"Tom!"

What appeared to only be second later, he came running through the door with his wand at the ready, worried something had happened to her. His eyes quickly raked over Delilah, making sure she was alright. Once he realized she was fine, he then finally paid note to his peculiar surroundings.

It looked like they were in a cave.

Standing next to her, he too felt drawn to the empty expanse in front of them, in fact it was almost like he couldn't look away.

Delilah narrowed her eyes, the longer she looked the more she could've sworn she saw something move. "What?-" her eyes then widened and she felt so dizzy she nearly fell over, Tom quickly caught her so she wouldn't hit her head on the rock. "What's wrong-"

"How are you here?" Her voice sounded so terribly troubled and Tom furrowed his brows, wondering what she meant. But the longer the looked at her, he came to realize she wasn't speaking to him.

Following her gaze, she was looking at the black expanse in front of them. "Who're talking to?"

Delilah was suddenly sweating and she turned her head towards Tom too quickly, her vision swam, but she couldn't find her words. Looking back towards the wall, she gaped at the sight of her brother.

He looked... _wrong_. It was like someone tried to define a permanently blurred image.

"How are you here?" She gasped out, stumbling up to her feet and tearing herself away from Tom.

"I came looking for you, everywhere, for months." Harrison gave her a smile, it looked pained and only then did she notice his teeth were stained with blood. He also had two black eyes, a deep gash in his lip and on his cheek, and he was clutching his arm.

"Oh my god what happened to you?" She wanted to move forward but she was in shock, she felt frozen. 

"I searched. And I searched. The closer I seemed to get you'd suddenly be yanked away. Where were you? Why were you hiding from me? From us? Why would do that?" His tone seemed to grow a slight bite and she involuntarily flinched.

"I wasn't hiding," at the doubtful look in Harrison's eyes, she felt her throat tighten. "I wasn't! I would never do that."

Harrison shrugged but then winced due to his apparent broken arm. "It doesn't matter now. Not now that's he's involved. You've no idea what he's planning he's-" Harrison suddenly looked to his left but Delilah couldn't see anything.

"Oh god no I wasn't- Delilah you have to help me! Please! The things he puts me through please!" Her brother began to cry out, she's never seen him look so broken.

She took a step forward but Tom had grabbed onto her arm. Delilah had forgotten he was even there. "Let go of me."

"I don't think-"

"Delilah please, don't let him take you away from us, from me again. Please! He's the one who did this to me!"

Anger flared in her heart, "who?"

He shook his head and gulped, "I can't tell you that. If I did he'd do the same to you. He can't. Please help me."

She nodded her head and began to step forward but Tom yanked her back. "Let go of me!"

"He's done he same to mum and dad, and Blaise, Merlin what he'll do to Harry! Delilah please, it hurts so much."

At the mere thought of her family and friends being beaten and tortured she tried to rip herself out of Tom's hold. Why was he trying to hold her back?

"Delilah stop," Tom's voice echoed and bounced off the walls to loud it made her ears ring, but she had formed tunnel vision on her broken brother and there wasn't a thing on earth that would stop her from getting to him.

She hasn't seen him in months, she doesn't even remember the last time she hugged him.

Delilah broke free from Tom's hold and felt elated at the sight of her brother opening his arms to her, even after all these months he forgave her. He searched for her, endlessly, he never gave up.

Her world spun however when Tom lifted her up from behind by her waist, attempting to drag her back towards the door but she began to kick and thrash, screaming violently for him to let her go.

"No, I need to go to him!"

Tom's mind was reeling, he's never seen Delilah in such a state. Her face was contorted into fury and worry, she was sweating and with each blow to his body there was a profound ache.

"I need him! Let me go!" When she nailed him painfully hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him, his grip loosened slightly but he made sure to hold on. He had to.

How her body was thrashing it would appear she was under the cruciatus curse, her body was jerking so terribly. "My family, did you not hear him, look at him for fucks sake! Let me go! He needs me to take him home! I need this to happen, he needs my help!"

Tom was panicking, which was never a good thing because it caused his mind to go all foggy. He didn't know what he could possibly say to calm her down, he felt like apologizing but didn't know what for. Watching her like this was painful.

"Harrison I'm so sorry!" Her voice cracked and Tom was sure all this screaming made her throat feel on fire. His ears were ringing, due to the structure of the curved walls, it sounded as if a banshee was being murdered.

"Let me go!" She punctuated the last word as she threw her head back, her skull smashing into Tom's nose with a crack and he dropped her to the ground. Delilah didn't pay any mind as the ragged stone cut into the palms of her hands and her knees. 

She staggered up but only managed to take a single step forward before Tom hand grabbed onto her arm again. A bloody, and possibly broken nose, was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Stop-" The word barely passed his lips when she punched him in the cheek, hard. She struggled out of his grasp but Tom managed to tackle her to the ground.

Delilah turned, with the added pressure of Tom on top of her the stone tore through her dress and ripped into her skin, she didn't care, all she could think about was her brother who had been calling for her incessantly.

Tom spit the blood out of his mouth and pinned her to the ground, the stone cutting into his own knees.

With one hand he managed to pin her wrist down, and with the other he grabbed onto her chin to tear her eyes away and look at him.

"He isn't real," she yanked her head back, causing it to hit the floor and he winced for her but pushed on, gripping her chin again. "He isn't real. Delilah, he isn't here."

"Why would you say that? Yes he is, he's," she tore her chin out of his grasp again and looked at her brother, he had tears welling in his eyes and he began to scream out in pain. "Look at him! How could you see that and tell me he's not real," she began to struggle against Tom again and he clinched his jaw. 

"Why are you trying to keep me away?" His head was ringing with her yelling.

"There's no body there, look. Really look, out of the corner of your eye do you see anyone?"

"Stop trying to-"

" _Look_!" His voice tore through his throat, bouncing off the walls in a painfully loud and terrifying recession.

Delilah went still against him when she realized what tone in his voice was.

He was begging.

Tom Riddle doesn't beg, he wouldn't even beg for his life.

Delilah was shaking, she didn't want to believe Harrison wasn't actually there. After all the months he was finally within her grasp. Wherever he was, he was alive, hurt, but alive.

However she couldn't ignore the doubt starting to prick at the back of her skull.

She swallowed, the action was painful as her throat felt like sand paper. "How do I know you're real?"

Tom bit at his cheek for a moment before taking the hand that held her wrist and grabbing one of her hands, raising it to rest on his now bruised cheek. He held it there despite the sting and gave her hand a light squeeze. "I'm here."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she leaned her head back to look at the cave, it was empty, her brother was gone. She choked out a pained moan and squeezed her eyes shut, beginning to violently shake her head and mutter 'no' over and over again.

She just lost her brother all over again.

"I'm here," Tom urged, taking her hand and tugging her up into a sitting position. It was a bit difficult considering his legs were straddled over her but he made do and cupped her cheeks, willing her to open her eyes.

"Stay with me, Delilah. I'm real."

She felt so heavy in that moment. Letting her head fall forward, her face was buried in his chest and she sighed shakily as Tom wrapped his arms around her, it wasn't a hug. He was holding her, making her she didn't fall.

His chin rested on top of her as the black void stared at him, empty yet guilty of the torment it just caused Delilah. "Trust me."

She took a shaking breath, the warmness of it tickling his exposed skin. What was this place, this thing?

As Tom continued to stare into the void, rocking Delilah slightly until her breathing calmed down, the darkness seemed to slowly vanish.

His eyes narrowed in curiosity as a stone wall started to appear, and eventually it filled up the entire space. However that wasn't all, there was something engraved.

Looking down at her, he realized she'd stopped shaking. "Lilah, can you stand up?" He felt like asking her if she was alright would've been pointless, it looked like she'd just gone through hell.

She pressed her forehead against him for a moment, she liked it when he called her that. Delilah could feel his heart beat and she let the rhythm sink into her, an effort to calm herself and truly believe that he was real. "I think so," her voice was rough and he slowly helped her stand up, never letting go of her.

Once she got balanced, he gestured to look behind her. Delilah shook her head quickly, staring at him wide eyed, "I don't want to. I can't. What if I see my brother-"

"You won't. That's gone now, it's over. It's just a wall now with a door, but look." He turned her around and he watched as her features changed when she processed the words engraved into the stone.

"Bloodied hands may unlock the door, know the weight of your sins, and enter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed!!


	31. Chapter Thirty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to thank MrsLolita for all their lovely and heartfelt comments!! They mean the absolute world to me, thank you so much for reading!

Delilah turned to Tom, "what does that mean?" He only glanced at her before walking towards the wall, lifting a hand he lightly traced the letters with a finger.

There was _something_ , he just didn't know what.

Closing his eyes, he splayed out both his hands and pressed them flatly to the wall. After a minute or so, his eyes snapped open. "It's vibrating."

Cautiously walking forward, she too raised a hand. At first she couldn't feel a thing, it just felt like cold stone, but the more she concentrated the more she could feel the slight hum.

"Well, we know something is behind it. Considering the door and message. But what does the message mean?" Her thoughts poured out of her mouth, anything to distract herself from seeing the faux image of her beaten brother.

She couldn't help herself, however. "Tom," she began. He hummed a response as he brought out his wand, searching for any means of an explanation. Did it mean literal bloody hands, or figuratively? With 'knowing the weight' he supposed it'd be more metaphorical, however did the door possibly require actual blood to open?

"What was that? Why did I- why did it make me see Harrison?"

"Who?"

Her teeth gritted, he wasn't even paying attention to her. Delilah scolded herself, it was clear he was trying to figure out how to open the door. Nonetheless she couldn't help the frustration as well as adrenaline pumping through her at the moment.

"My brother."

"Oh right, him."

"You forgot?" The disbelief in her voice made him whirl around and he pointed his wand absentmindedly at her since it was in his hand. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm trying to get us through. Make yourself useful and run tests on the door."

He tried to ignore how she flinched with his wand pointed at her, but he had a million things running through his mind at the moment. She looked like she wanted to smack him.

With that, he turned his back and continued to run his hands along the walls, muttering a series of spells. Clenching her jaw, Delilah tried the doorknob, just to see, but of course it didn't budge.

"And I'm not sure," Tom muttered, though the damp curved walls of the cave made his voice seem louder. "It was most likely a security protocol. Whatever you see, a vision or something of the like, and if you're able to overcome it that grants you access to the door."

She thought over this, and it made sense. But then why would there be another step of defense they had to go through? What was so important beyond that door? What would've happened if she stepped into that black void?

Looking back at the words, she repeated them constantly inside her head. What sort of sins was it referring to? Most likely the death of someone, considering the person who opens the door has to have blood on their hands.

"Tom," she began again, her voice timid. She didn't know if she wanted to ask this, but she knew she had to. 

"We've both... how do I word this?"

Curious, he dropped his hands and looked at her with an expectant glimmer in his eye, urging her to continue.

Rubbing at her eyes she continued, "we've both taken a life before, if I'm correct." He raised a brow and her and became tense, he's never told her about his father.

Delilah quickly realized this and hurried for an explanation, "the girl who died in your fifth year, in the bathroom."

Right, that.

Tom shrugged and began to search the wall again. "I didn't directly kill her, that was a basilisks." Delilah gaped at him for a moment before she then shook her head as she remembered who she was talking to. Was that really how he justified Myrtle's death?

"Yeah, but you were still the main cause behind- oh."

Tom raised a brow, only half listening.

" _Oh_. Oh that's very clever." Delilah laughed and the clarity in her voice made Tom look back at her both confused and slightly annoyed that she appeared to have discovered something.

"What?" He asked and walked over towards her, she had a crazed smile on her lips. "Don't you understand? Oh my god you don't. That's hilarious, I figured it out before you did!" Delilah had grabbed him by the front of his shirt with two fist and began to shake him slightly. "What?" He said again, though more impatient.

"Bloodied hands may unlock the door, know the weight of your sins, and enter."

"Yes, I can see what it says."

Delilah rolled her eyes and shook him again, "yes you see, but you do not understand!"

"Well then tell me instead of rambling," he bit, although he had to admit he was trying not to smile. Of course she would figure it out, his clever little witch.

"Bloodied hands may unlock the door. So, let's say you've killed someone, or you were the cause." Her smile fell slightly, her tone losing a bit of light. "Know the weight of your sins and enter. Killing someone always comes with a price Tom, it rips your soul apart. Even if that person was foul, even if it was self defense. That's still a life you took into your own hands."

The cluelessness on his face scared her. He didn't understand, not remorse, not regret. It was hard for her to comprehend, just moments ago he held her, he saved her. True, he didn't really know Myrtle.

Nonetheless, she still had a life. The people Delilah had killed were all Death Eaters, foul people who killed anyone who was different. But they were still people.

"Know the weight," Her voice was a whisper, and since they were so close he could feel the warmness of her breath. Her lips pursed into what could be perceived as a painful smile and she rested a hand on his cheek.

Tom's brows furrowed, his eyes locked onto hers as he took in the feeling of her palm pressed against the side of his face, he could feel her pulse.

Delilah's own eyes dashed across his face, back and forth between his eyes, he was just a boy who made all the wrong choices.

He'd never know the weight of his sins, turning into Voldemort proved that.

That killed her. She was alive but, the knowledge of that killed her.

Pulling her hand away, Tom could still feel the warmth of her skin against his. However his eyes widened as she raised her wand and cut a gash on the back of her arm.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Delilah merely glanced at him before taking her other hand and covering it in some of her own blood. Walking over to the door, she took in a breath before grabbing hold of the knob. It was a bit difficult to turn considering her palm was slick with crimson, but she smiled slightly as the door clicked open. 

"Ta-da," she muttered and grinned a bit too cockily for Tom's liking. Nonetheless he appraised her for a moment before walking up to her with his wand raised.

Delilah's eyes widened and she backed away from him. Tom rolled his eyes and took hold of her arm, muttering for her to stand still and he started to not only heal her cut but the other wounds she sustained during their little row. As he started to fix her dress, which really he should've done awhile ago considering part of her undergarments were on show, he glanced at her for a moment. "I assume your head is feeling better?"

Delilah nodded, feeling a bit of warmth return to her cheeks. "I hadn't even realized it was hurting."

"Most likely adrenaline," he muttered as he finished putting her light blue summer dress back together, looking good as knew.

They stared at each other for a moment before she cleared her throat, "shall we?" He nodded and they turned towards the dark expanse beyond the door. There was a draft coming from beyond however, and as he lit his wand, he realized there were stairs leading down.

A lot of stairs. As they started off, they came to realize it was a winding spiraled stair case.

After a few moments Delilah also noted the stairs were covered in a plush red carpet and they started to pass by some paintings.

Grabbing hold of Tom's arm, she brought them to a stop. "What is it?" He asked, turning his head this way and that to try to get a clue where they were at.

"I think," she trailed for a moment before waving her wand, shooting light into whatever could hold it. Slowly, one after the other, candles became alight every ten feet, going down lower and lower.

Both their eyes widened slightly as they looked over the stairs railing, there was still another eight stories for them to walk down.

As they walked down, there was a multitude of expensive looking paintings of what could be assumed as royalty.

When they reached the bottom, black and white marble decorated the floor in an intricate pattern. But that appeared to be it, however as Tom turned in a complete circle, his eyes landed on a bookshelf that was slightly pushed away from the wall.

Narrowing his eyes a bit, he walked over and noticed dust rising and falling slightly around the floor. "Found it," he called and shortly he could feel Delilah at his side.

With the wave of her hand, the bookshelf moved and they were met with a gate. Though this time, there was no message, simply a lock.

Tom scoffed slightly, a bit disappointed at the lack of challenge, but he was grateful he wouldn't have to deal with Delilah screaming her head off again.

Unlocking it with his wand, he pushed the gate open and gestured for her to go first. Reluctantly she passed through, but just before she did so she took hold of Tom's hand and brought him in with her.

"Scared of the dark?" He teased and she elbowed him slightly in the side, his timing was terrible.

These stairs were more narrow and made of wood, non polished and a bit creaky. Even the railing was susceptible to giving splinters. It was also incredibly cold and Delilah rubbed at her bare arms. "What is this place?" She mumbled, and the echo that followed after made her raise her brows.

Tom merely hummed and waved his wand, moments later light after light began to glow.

They both froze as the expanse around them became visible.

"Holy shit."

"My sentiments exactly," Tom whispered, his eyes raking over everything above them, around them, and below them.

Wherever they were, whether it was a library or a collection, it was massive. Bigger than anything they've ever seen, it was definitely bigger than the Hogwarts library; by a long shot.

Tom walked down the last few steps which led to a sort of balcony that connected the floor. The middle was hallow, the floors wrapping around, which made him able to see how far down this place went. It was at least twenty stories below him, and maybe five above.

He spun in a circle, each level had rows upon rows of twenty foot shelves packed with books, artifacts, and who knows what else.

Delilah ran down the isle closest to the walkway, some of the languages she's never seen before. A cheerful laugh left her lips and she locked eyes with Tom, he looked like a kid in a candy store.

As Tom looked at her, he felt his excitement sky rocket at the gleam in her eyes, that same hunger he felt for something new.

However she couldn't ignore how she felt like she was drowning, the aura of this place felt so heavy, she couldn’t describe it. She felt like she was being crushed yet put back together all over again the more she walked down each isle.

New subjects and ideals of magic she's never even dreamt of were staring right back at her. And it was _dark_. Delilah nearly felt suffocated by it.

Tom however felt like he could get drunk on the dark magic radiating, pulsing, throughout this place. His heart rate had picked up as he flicked through so many different books. Eventually he had a pile of about twenty, and with each passing minute two more were added.

Delilah forced herself away from her own curiosity as she went to the railing, Tom was a level below her and she worried at her lip as she observed him.

Panic and worry shot through as Delilah watched his features morph into something dangerous. It reminded her of him, Voldemort. She hated it.

Tom flinched slightly when he felt someone touch his arm, he forgot Delilah was even there. However he didn't pull his eyes away from the book he was holding, his eyes pouring over each word.

"Tom," Her voice was clear and it rang out, weaving itself between each shelf. He felt her hand drag down and she twined her fingers with his.

She needed to pull him out of his head, anything to anchor him to the real world.

Having to quite literally drag his eyes away from the fascinating book, Tom looked and her and felt frozen. Why did she look scared? His eyes then danced around the library but saw no signs of anything that should cause her to be alert.

When he noticed her eyes were glued to his face he stiffened slightly. She was afraid of him?

Swallowing a bit thickly, Tom snapped the book shut and set it down on a near by table. "Let's search the other floors," he muttered. He appeared to be a bit troubled, but Delilah felt slightly at ease due to the notion he was still holding her hand.

As they strolled around, poking and prodding at the most strangest things, Delilah had to admit a majority of it was quite alluring. She supposed the Dark Arts was a bit seductive, it had to be, or else why would anyone ever practice it?

Surely the repercussions would turn the users away, any rational person could see the toll dark magic took. Then again as she glanced at Tom, she realized the people who ended up drowning in the darkness were hardly ever rational.

They were mad.

He wasn't there yet, he just wasn't. If he was, there was no way in hell Delilah would've been able to gain his attention. He'd still be hunched over all those books, forgetting she even existed.

They made it about six more floors down, and ended up taking a break as they sat in one of the isles. Delilah was leaned against the shelves, Tom to her side and they were surrounded by stacks and stacks of books. All varying in degrees of magic, practices, theories, and history. How it happened, neither was sure, but one of her legs ended up being draped over his lap. They didn't pay it any mind.

Both froze however when they heard voices.

Delilah went to stand up but Tom held up a hand, a silent order for her to stay put. Slowly, he lifted her leg and set the book down as quietly as possible. Standing up, he made his way as far down the isle as possible without being seen. Delilah was a bundle of nerves as she watched his careful steps.

Who could possibly be here?

As Tom neared the edge, he pressed his pack to the shelves and peered around the corner. It was a group of about six men, ranging from the ages thirty to fifty. He narrowed his eyes but only moments later they widened.

"Shit," he whispered.

Slowly and quietly making his way back to Delilah, taking hold of her hands and pulling her up to her feet. She raised a brow in question, not liking how he suddenly seemed a bit tense.

Looking back towards the stairs, he took a breath before continuing. "It's Grindelwald's men."

It was nearly comical how wide her eyes went, she looked as if she'd just been petrified. "How do you know?" Her voice was a whisper and they began to walk towards the back of the isle so they'd be against the farthest wall, out of sight.

"They're wearing the mark, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows."

Delilah could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she tried to rack her brain for a way to get out.

Tom however couldn't help but feel slightly elated at his new revelation. This must be Grindelwald's private collection. That explained the rather clever defenses. Merlin, the knowledge within these walls, he- no.

Looking over his shoulder, he noted how Delilah looked panicked, but ready to run.

She found this place. She figured out how to get in. She also stopped him from losing himself, all with a simple look.

"Who-"

"Time to go," he took off running, casting a silencing and disillusionment charm on them both. Delilah staggered after him, taken off guard by his sudden action.

They weaved between the isles, but there was an issue. Only one exit. Tom was sure there were more, but neither of them exactly made time to look.

Delilah was on his heels, however as she turned a corner her shoulder knocked into a shelf rather hard, sending a handful of not only books but an old metal helmet to the ground.

Tom verbally groaned and she winced, "Sorry."

Shouting could suddenly be heard from Grindelwald's men and they looked at each other for second, quickly realizing there would be no easy way out of this.

"We could just kill them," Tom chided as he got his wand at the ready, casually starting to walk down the isle, head on into trouble.

"You think you're hilarious, don't you?" Delilah sighed as she re-did her updo before getting her own wand out.

"Yes, I do," with that they stepped out onto the landing and immediately a series of spells was fired at them.

Tom threw up a protective barrier seconds before the spells slammed into it. The guards looked slightly surprised at the sight of two eighteen year olds, but that didn't stop them from flying nasty hexes one after the other.

"Difficulty, scale of one to ten?" Tom asked as he flicked his wand upward, tearing the wooden floorboards from up under one of the men's feet. Delilah watched as the man let out a yelp and fell two stories before landing in a heap on a landing below.

"Seven, maybe eight?" She called as she side stepped a whip of bright fire one of the men produced. Yanking her wand to the right, an invisible rope tied itself around the man's foot and he was thrown over the edge.

"An eight, really? I would say a four."

Delilah rolled her eyes, of course he would be enjoying this. She let out a shout as something sharp cut into her leg. The severing charm nearly missed her, but it still managed to make a rather nasty cut.

Tom saw streaks of crimson run down her leg and he bit at his cheek for a moment before raising his wand, for a few seconds nothing happened and Grindelwald's men chuckled in amusement.

"What're you expecting to do, boy?"

The smirk that spread out across Tom's lips was a bit unnerving and Delilah's eyes widened as she heard something crash, followed by gleams of silver as swords and spikes shot through the air.

Two of the men were able to dive out of the way, but the other two let out screams of pain as they were impaled. "Tom what the fuck?" She yelled out, staring wide eyed as one of them began to choke up blood, shortly after he stopped moving.

"Oh don't start," he slashed his wand in a diagonal, sending one of the other men to the ground as his feet gave out.

She gritted her teeth, she knew she didn't have time to argue. Delilah went to send a hex towards one of the men when there was a sharp blow to her back and she fell to her knees.

At the sound of her scream, Tom whirled around and saw one of the men had his hand wound in Delilah's hair, her head yanked back.

Tom's eyes didn't waver from the man as two of the others tried to fire a spell at him, but with the wave of his hand their wands came flying into his palm.

"Let go of me," Delilah bit out, trying to elbow him in the crotch but he avoided the blow with a chuckle. "Not going to happen, sweetheart." He yanked on her hair harder and she winced, her hands flaying up to try to get him to let go.

One of his feet was pressed behind her knees, keeping her on the ground as his knee pressed painfully into her back.

"You heard the lady," Tom voice cut through the air and the man nearly scoffed.

Tom felt disgust pool in his chest as he took in the grime of him. His teeth were slightly yellow, his beard was scragglier than his matted auburn hair, and his cheeks were severely caved in.

The only other man left tried to fire the killing curse at Tom, but he easily moved out of the way and fired the curse right back at him, hitting him square in the chest.

The green light was almost blinding and Delilah squeezed her eyes shut.

"Now, do as your told," Tom's voice was low and steady, his dark eyes looking black as he slowly walked forward, his wand at his side.

The man sneered at the realization he was the only one left. "There's others, up above. If you try anything I'll snap her neck."

"I don't think you will," Tom took another step forward and the man dug the tip of his wand into Delilah neck. She didn't verbally wince, but Tom watched as her brows furrowed and her jaw clenched. Her royal blue eyes were trained on Tom though, she trusted him. She knew that now, she trusted him with her life.

Curious how life works, considering he’s also the one who ended it.

"Take a one step closer and she breaks like a promise."

Delilah suddenly went still and her eyes bore into Tom's before she glanced at one of the swords laying a few feet away. He didn't allow himself to turn to look, he couldn't give that away, so instead he clicked his tongue. He was feigning annoyance but he knew she got the hint when she winked.

"You see, I don't believe you're capable," Tom started as he mentally began to move the sword behind the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the silver gleamed in the candle light, hovering just behind the man's neck.

"Really? Would you like test that the-"

With a slight jerk of Tom's head, the sword swung and cut the man's head clean off. Delilah screamed and scrambled away as she heard the thud of something heavy hit the floor.

Tom helped her up to her feet, one arm wrapped around her waist holding her close as they both backed away from the now headless body.

Her fist was bunching the material of his shirt as she tried to slow her breathing, "do you think he was telling the truth? About there being more men up above?"

Before Tom could answer, he heard a series of more shouts and the sound of footsteps marching their way up. "Apparently."

Looking over the railing, he saw a group of ten more men start to ascend the stairs.

Ah, so there was more than one way in.

"Delilah, do you think it's about time we left." His tone was oddly casual and she nearly laughed, so much has happened in such a short amount of time.

"Yes, I do. Now let’s go."

Off they went, dashing up the stairs. She tripped on one of the steps but Tom had hold of her arm and practically dragged her up after him. "Must you be so disoriented? Do you not realize how inconvenient that is?"

She merely glared at the back of his head before focusing her eyes back on the endless steps, trying not to fall again.

After they made it up the spiral staircase, they bolted through the door, out of the cave, down hall, and out of the old house.

Delilah skidded to a stop however which caused Tom to run into the back of her. It was dark outside, the stars littered the sky and the town was relatively quiet.

How long had they been in there?

As if reading her mind, Tom took out his pocket watch and raised a brow, "it's two in the morning."

They didn't have time to dwell on their lost sense of time when they heard shouts and curses coming from inside the house.

Delilah groaned as Tom took off in a sprint, her hot on his heels as she heard the house’s door being thrown open.

Merlin did they run, their feet pounded against the cobblestone, moonlight clung to it like silver as they turned down numerous back streets. Grindelwald's men were relentless and remained about fifty feet behind them.

They couldn't apparate, it'd be too easy for them to follow back to Rosier Manor, which would put their whole group in danger.

Tom turned a sharp corner and yanked Delilah along with him, causing her shoulder to slam into the wall rather painfully. She let out a hiss but he didn't have the time nor did he see the need to apologize.

They were in a small and narrow alley between two town houses. He led them down about halfway before shoving Delilah against the wall, pushing her against it and boxing her in with his body.

Both hands were on either side of her head, his own was tilted to the side, checking to make sure Grindelwald's men weren't coming.

His teeth gritted in annoyance however as he mulled it over, they had to get back into that library. There was so much to discover.

Delilah was staring up at him, her chest heaving due to the constant running and adrenaline was making her body feel on fire. Or perhaps it was the feeling of him pressed against her.

Delilah felt a tug in her stomach she couldn't explain, her head was spinning as she tried to process all that had happened in the past few hours.

Tom had been surrounded by so much power, so much darkness, everything he could ever want in life was in that place. Yet he stayed with her.

As if sensing her gaze, Tom's dark eyes latched onto her bright ones.

For a moment they simply stare, space didn't seem to exist, it was just himself against her.

He could've lost himself in that collection, for good. He knew diving into the Dark Arts was dangerous, it was common knowledge those who do can go mad. They can lose all sense of self, of reality, she kept him rooted.

"Delilah-"

Before he could fishing there was a thud from the entrance of the alley. There was no time. Why was there never any time? He felt like screaming as he took hold of her hand and took off running.

The yells of the men slowly faded as Tom weaved between buildings, turning this way and that, Delilah struggling to keep up with his longer stride.

Once both of them were sure it was safe, they found themselves on an empty street. On the left were town houses and closed shops, on the right was a drop off to the ocean. They were on one of the cliffs edges and looking over the stone ledge of the make shift bridge, the beach was about thirty feet down.

The only lighting came from the dim street lamps, everything else was draped in a blue hue, the only sound was their panting breaths and the waves crashing below.

Delilah leaned against the stone ledge of the bridge and they look at each other for a moment before breaking out into fits of laughter.

"That was completely mental!" She laughed, still out of breath and she gripped her side. Tom chuckled and ran two hands through his hair, throwing his head back as he took in the cosmos above them.

After they appeared to calm down, he pulled his eyes away from the stars and observed her, taking in everything that had just happened.

However the longer he looked at her, he knew he's never met anyone as remarkable as her, he probably never would again. Delilah would be leaving him soon, for good. He'd never get to hear her stupid voice again, rambling about something she found fascinating.

There wasn't a damn thing he could do that wouldn't cause her to be mad at him. If he tried to stop her from seeing her family again, she'd hate him.

But he couldn’t help but feel the need to do something, anything, anything at all to prolong her stay.

Tom was standing at a cross roads. Whichever path he chose, if he decided to step forward there was no turning back.

Before he could withdraw from his thoughts, he saw a flash of gold as Delilah grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him.

It was so short she didn't even know if he kissed her back.

Tom's eyes had gone wider than she'd ever seen them, her own widened and she gulped as realization of what she just did dawned on her.

Pulling her hands away, she felt like she was shaking. Why wasn't he saying anything? "Sorry, that was rather impulsive of me-"

His face lowered and his lips pressed to hers, they were slightly chapped yet soft all the same. One hand held the back of her head while his other arm wrapped around her waist.

Tom decided to hell with it, take that step forward, dive head in no matter the consequences. The kiss felt like a tuning fork struck against a star, how could he ever regret this?

They pulled back after a moment, gazing at each other with glossed over eyes, their breaths mingling in the lack space between them.

Delilah raised a hand, her forefinger lightly rested on his cheek as she dragged it down to the corner of his mouth. Her eyes looks brighter than the stars above them.

She smiled then, clearly about to say something but his tongue was already tracing the inside of her cheek before he'd consciously made the decision to kiss her again.

Overwhelmed in euphoria, Delilah felt dizzy. The hottest of colors were dancing behind her eyes; red and blue. Their lips parted but remained connected, Tom released a hot breath that invaded and branded her mouth.

They were both reaching for something in each other, they didn't know what but Tom appeared hell bent on getting it in his grasp.

Bending, blowing, forcing, breaking, making her feel reborn with his body pressed against hers.

"Tom," she breathed, his name winding between her ribs and binding her lungs tightly.

The breathlessness in her voice lit his body on fire in a way no magic ever could. He enveloped her in his arms, it didn't seem possible but they circled around her completely. Delilah was his life source in that moment and he'd be damned before he let her go.

It was like he was born just to live in this moment. Standing above her, or below her, by her, or being surrounded. If she was there with him, the whole world could be burning and he wouldn't move an inch.

A chill ravished from his head, cascading down into each of his bones when he felt her nails rake through his hair against his scalp, tugging and pulling.

Reaching.

There was a knot tightening between them and neither wanted to break it.

Her body moved against his, Tom kept leaning forward and Delilah pushed back, fighting for space between them.

The softness of her could be felt in every nerve of his body, the thin fabric of her summer dress not leaving much to the imagination against his own thin button down.

His lips moved away from hers, and before she could utter a complaint, his mouth latched onto the space below her jaw.

Reaching, rising, blowing.

It was a plea in disguise, seeing as Tom was never good at putting such emotions into words. It was a plea for salvation, in her, in each other.

Pulling his head back by his hair, a barely audible groan passed his mouth but it was swallowed by her breath.

She wanted him to take all of her. By god, all of her, her mind, her soul, her body. This was a new vulnerability Delilah had never experienced, she never knew she wanted to.

Finally they pulled back and rested their foreheads together, chests rising and falling in sync.

There was a ridiculous smile on her face, and Tom didn't miss the notion how her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen.

Her eyes were so bright.

Looking up at him, it was the nearest thing to heaven.

This moment, here and now, on a street in France; it was a confession. Now that she was at the liberty to do so. Her heart was his as they stood on that empty street, the waves crashing beneath them.

“Excusez-moi!” A voice called and they flinched, not expecting to be torn out of their own little world so soon. Tom looked over his shoulder and there was an old man glowering at them from his window. “Qu’est-ce que vous croyez faire? Agir comme ça, en public? À cette heure?”

A woman appeared at his side and smacked his arm lightly, “Laisse-les, mon amour. Ne vois-tu pas que ces jeunes sont entichés l’un à l’autre? Laisse-les s’amuser. Rappelles-toi quand nous-“

He waved his hand to stop her from continuing, though Tom didn’t miss how red the man’s face became.

Delilah was biting back a laugh, causing a grin to break out over her flushed features. They were still in a rather compromising position. She was pressed against the ledge by Tom, her legs on either side of him. Tom had turned his burning gaze back on Delilah long ago and she shifted a bit underneath the weight of it.

Clearing her throat, Delilah forced herself to look away from his coffee dark pools and at the old couple. “Je suis terriblement désolée si nous avons causés une perturbation.”

Annoyed at being interrupted yet again, Tom plastered on his charming smile which was accompanied by his flushed cheeks, bitten at lips, and wild hair. “Oui, nous sommes profondément désolés.”

As soon as the old couple closed their window, Delilah broke out into another fit of laughter, burying her head against his chest.

Tom felt abnormally calm in that moment as he watched her body rock with laughter. After a moment she sighed and lifted her head, resting her chin against his chest as she looked up at him. There was a small smile on her face but her brows furrowed as he just continued to stare at her.

“What?”

Biting at his cheek, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “Nothing,” He let out a breath and looked up at the sky, alight with stars. The real world slowly sleeping back in.

Delilah was aware of this as well, but she wouldn’t dare let it puncture how happy she felt. “C’mon, we should get back.” She lightly placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, not being able to help the grin on her lips at his reluctance.

As she began to walk down the street, back towards the manor, a sense of comfort fell over her as one of his arms draped over her shoulders. She smiled at him before turning her gaze forward, a look of content on her features.

Tom himself felt elated, but he couldn’t help the guilt beginning to gnaw at the back of his skull.

No, he shouldn’t feel guilty. She’s the one who initiated the kiss. Since he gave in, kissed her back like his life depended on it, perhaps now she’d stay.

Why else would he let himself kiss her?

Well, he was hoping she would stay. He had to put his trust into knowing Delilah cared that deeply enough for him.

She couldn’t leave.


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

Well around three in the morning, Delilah and Tom stumbled through the doors of the manor; albeit Tom was much more graceful. Delilah quite literally tripped over his foot and he easily caught her by the arm, sending her a halfhearted glare. "Do you do this on purpose?"

"Why would I do that?"

Her cheeks were still flushed, undoubtedly from their heated kiss, so he wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not. Tom settled for raising a questioning brow.

As they made their way up the many stairs, she came to realize all of her clothes were in Olive's room. Delilah didn't want to wake her, considering she knew how livid the brunette would be. There was also the possibility of Aleksander being in Olive's room, a sight Delilah was positive she didn't want to see.

Slowing to a stop in front of Tom's door, he looked down at her blankly, she clearly wanted to say something.

"Um, I left my things in Olive's room..."

"That appears to be your problem, not mine," he then bowed his head in goodnight and turned his back, Delilah gaping at him as he went into his room and shut the door.

"Asshole," she muttered, her hand absentmindedly reaching up to touch her still tingling lips.

They had kissed. Many times, in fact she was almost positive Tom sensed the desperation in it. Which was a tad embarrassing, but nonetheless he didn't seem to give damn as he also kissed her back full force.

God, what had she just done? She made out with Tom Riddle, she initiated it, she _wanted_ it. What was wrong with her? Tom was- she didn't know of any proper words to summarize the type of person he was. She knew he was anything but good, he's exactly what she didn't need. Especially not now.

Shooting one last glare to his door, Delilah turned on her heel with the full intention of finding one of the many luxurious couches to sleep on when an arm wrapped around her waist. A slight gasp left her lips as Tom suddenly tugged her into his room. Though she couldn't ignore she was at least a tiny bit pleased with this outcome.

His lips were near her ear as her back was pressed into the front of him, his warm breath making her feel oddly cold yet on fire.

"No need to act like a kicked puppy," he mumbled, though in the quiet room it nearly sounded like a shout.

"I hate you," Delilah sighed as she turned in his arms, simply gazing up at him.

"I know."

_________________________________

A rap on the door jostled her awake. At first she was merely annoyed, burying her head into the soft pillow with a groan. However, when she heard a dry chuckle, Delilah shot up into a sitting position. Rubbing the tiredness from her eyes, the blurred vision of Tom sitting at his desk became clear. His shirt was unbuttoned, hair a mess, and he was writing in his diary. 

The creak of a door didn't bear her any mind.

"Riddle, have you seen Delilah- oh."

Delilah's eyes locked onto pale green, both too startled to speak. 

There was a sigh from Tom and she was grateful for the meek distraction. "Morning, Rosier. Do you need anything else?"

"Uh," Elio forced himself to look away from her. She looked beautiful, he just wished it wasn't in Tom's bed, of all fucking places. "No, sorry. I just- I was looking for Delilah."

"Clearly," setting down his quill, Tom turned and his eyes bore into Elio's. "And now you've found her. Gather everyone in the drawing room in twenty minutes."

"Why?"

Blowing a slight huff from his nose, Tom opened his cigarette box and placed one between his lips, "has everyone forgotten why we're here?" He snapped his fingers to light the cigarette, temporarily making his face glow orange. The exasperation in his voice was a tad comical, but Delilah couldn't ignore the spark of tension that arose in the room. 

The boys' conversation became muffled as Delilah's eyes widened, slowly lifting the covers. A sigh of relief left her lips as she took note she was still wearing her clothes. Besides, Delilah felt like she would most certainly remember if anything happened with Tom. If simply kissing him was that intense, Merlin knows more scandalous activity would never be forgotten. 

Clearing his throat, Elio spared a glance at Delilah and all she could muster was a timid smile. What was she supposed to say? Nothing was making sense. Good lord what would the others think? Elio would undoubtedly tell them, a fact she was surprisingly at ease with. Nonetheless, she didn't want anyone getting ideas. Her and Tom weren't together. All they did was kiss and share a bed, nothing more. 

However, as the door clicked shut behind Elio, Tom turned his gaze to her. Delilah couldn't ignore the butterflies going on a rampage inside her stomach.

Oh, she was definitely fucked. 

 "So," she rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes not looking away from a particular crease in the sheets. Tom rolled his eyes as smoke poured out of his nose and stood up, making his way to the bookshelf on her side of the bed. "Please spare me the awkwardness, it'd be greatly appreciated."

Whether or not smack him or appreciate his bluntness, she didn't know. Either way, she took a pillow and hurled it at him. The pillow merely fell to the floor and unfazed, Tom kicked it away as he flipped through a book. Twirling her necklace, Delilah's gaze drifted to the empty spot on the bed next to her. Only then did she realize it wasn't slept in, the pillow didn't even have a dent. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, she hoped he hadn't slept on the floor or a couch. Both seemed beneath him,  but she couldn't ignore the slight pang she felt. Biting at her cheek, she looked at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what, the kiss? Do we need to?"

"I don't know, do you want to?"

"I don't see a point. It happened, what else is there to say?"

She felt frozen and her head began to ache, he was unbelievable. 

Her silence was loud and wouldn't be so easily ignored. Tom pinched the bridge of his nose before willing himself to look at her, "don't pout-"

"Do you regret it?"

Tom blinked, he was slightly surprised at such a suggestion. How could he ever regret kissing her? "No."

"If you do, that's okay. I'd understand, you don't have to lie."

"Delilah," closing the book he tossed it on the bed and put out his cigarette before walking over. He didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon and her eyes widened as she shuffled back on the sheets. Tom reached the edge of the mattress and managed to grab hold of her ankles before she could fully retreat. Delilah barely registered the tilt of lips when he suddenly yanked her forward by her ankles, causing her to fall on her back and her legs to dangle off the bed on either side of him. 

His touch was feather light as his fingers unintentionally dragged up the sides of her legs and she repressed a chill as she looked up at him. Tom's hands pressed into the bed on either side of her waist as he looked down at her, Delilah's golden hair fanning out in a nimbus. Grabbing her hand, he placed a chaste kiss on the inside of her palm. The chill of her skin rippled through him, completely welcomed. "I wouldn't change a second of it. Although, that elderly couple wasn't exactly welcomed." 

Her laughter met his ears and his lips tugged up more than usual at the sound of it. "That was hilarious, but probably one of the most embarrassing things ever." Slight disappointment flared in her chest when Tom backed away from the bed and went back to his desk, his mind already occupied with whatever he was now reading. Was she really so easy to dismiss? She couldn't keep up with him. One minute he's being strangely affectionate, the next he's ignoring her existence.  

"Get dressed, Ministry plans await." 

 

A frown tugged at her lips as she registered his voice. Right, home. What was wrong with her, she should be jumping off the walls. 

Tom didn't miss how she visibly deflated and turned his back to hide a slight smile. Was she contemplating leaving? After all this time she seemed so sure, so driven. Yet with a few tender moments he got her to second guess. 

He should've kissed her sooner. 

Rolling out of bed, the coldness of the marble shot through her bare feet and ravished her nerves. She began to walk towards the door and Tom raised a brow, "where're you going?" Gesturing towards the door, her mood had severely dropped and she felt sluggish. "To change."

"Your clothes are in there," he sat down at his desk and nodded towards the closet. Her jaw went slack as she kept looking between the closet and his back, "who moved them?"

"I did." 

Her brows furrowed, why was he so infuriatingly unpredictable? He couldn't sleep in the same bed as her, yet he moved all her belongings into the same room? "When?"

"Last night."

"Why would you do that?"

Tom froze as he was midway through flipping a page, though if he was being honest he hadn't been paying attention to the words much. "If I was mistaken in you wanting to stay in here, I apologize. You can take them back."

She stared at him for a long time, but he did not turn around. "Why? Answer me that at least, I know you didn't sleep in the bed last night, so why would you want to share a room?" More silence met her ears and she felt like screaming just so something could be happening. 

"Just fucking talk to me, Jesus Christ!" Delilah turned towards the door again and Tom shot out of his chair and took hold of her arm. His lips parted to say something but a few seconds later his eyes closed and he took a deep breath, well aware of her intense gaze on him. 

"I didn't sleep last night, I couldn't," he let go of her arm and leaned against the foot board of the bed. "Noise, it's just noise. And it's constant and doesn't shut up, I have to be doing things when my mind in this state. It's a clock, an incessant tick, pestering me if I'm not acting. I have to be doing something, if not I feel like I'll explode. And with the discovery of Grindelwald's private collection, I've gone into a frenzy." He ruffled his hair aggressively as he took a drag, plus he couldn't stop thinking about their kiss, though he'd never tell her that. The softness of her is an imprint he'd never be able to get out of his head.

Damn her, his pearl of great price. 

He watched as Delilah rubbed at her eyes and she seemed to be shaking slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just..." feeling drained, Delilah walked over to his desk and sunk into the chair, burying her head in her hands. Bloody fucking hell, she was in the deep end with a future dark lord. For the man who would kill her. Was she okay? Had she finally gone mental?

Steps approached slowly and she looked up, Tom had his hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the window.

"What are we doing?"

Tom gazed out the window for a long while, nothing catching his interest, everything he found beautiful yesterday appeared bleak now. "Meaning?"

"You and I, what are we doing? What is this?"

Pulling his eyes away from the French landscape, he looked down at the enigma in front of him. "I haven't the faintest clue... do you?" Delilah bit at her lip and turned towards the many scrolls sprawled out across his desk, the elegant writing looking foreign to her. Shaking her head, Tom walked over and tugged her up to her feet. Delilah's head fell against his shoulder as she took in a slow breath, the feeling of his thumb tracing over her scar on the back of her hand calmed her. "It's something."

"It's definitely not nothing," he didn't understand himself when he was around her. She was an entity, sometimes not there at all, other times she consumed. Twisting and molding and warping who he was, and all the time she was unaware. He was terrified of her, that he was aware of. The power she held over him was like an invisible scaffold that only he could see, only he could see the daunting fate that awaited him. But would he move out of the way when the blade swung?

"Off you go," he lightly pushed her towards the closet and Delilah halfheartedly groaned.

Walking through the bathroom, she began to slip off her dress but halted with the feeling of his heated gaze. Turning, she smiled rather cheekily before slamming the closet door shut.

_______________________________

She felt heavy as the plush chair seemed to envelope her, though the breeze coming in through the drawing room window calmed her nerves. The air felt stiff but she hadn't had the energy to worry about it. Finally, Tom walked in and barely spared her a glance as he waved his hand and he shut the window. 

"Right, down to business since we've already wasted a day." Everyone was staring between Delilah and Tom, making the blonde want to jump off one of the many cliffs of Étretat. "Yesterday Delilah and I came across something, something that will guide us right to the top. Any qualms we might have, I believe this is the solution to winning."

Abraxas raised a brow as Pyrrhus leaned forward, beyond curious. Delilah didn't miss the sudden light that engulfed their eyes. "What we found could make you rich, more wealthy than your entire family lineage combined. Knowledge that must never be spoken will now be at your fingertips."

"Bloody hell Riddle, enough with the dramatics, just tell us."

Tom looked at Delilah for a moment but realized she was avoiding looking at him. Biting his cheek, his gaze then bored into the mirror above the fireplace, his own reflection warping into something unrecognizable the longer he stared. "Grindelwald's private collection."

"Holy shit."

"Fuck."

"Merlin, Tom." Cain rubbed at his eyes and only then did Delilah take notice how tired he looked. Coming to think of it, she didn't really spend much time with him, she barely knew him. He looked at Lolita for a long moment before looking at Tom. "Does your ambition have no limits?"

"Avery everything you could ever want is in there-"

"No, everything you want, is. I'm content with my life and I'd like to keep it. Breaking into the Ministry is already a risk. But fucking with Grindelwald? He's a war lord, Riddle." 

Tom sighed as he looked at Cain, he didn't feel any disappointment, nor anger, he never expected much from him anyway. He's a fool in love, of course his judgement is clouded. "You're welcomed to stay out of it, live your little life with your bride to be."

"We both know you'd never allow that, he'd be punished would he not? Why all the lies?" Lolita said plainly and everyone turned to her with brows raised. 

"It's my belief that the truth is vastly overrated," Tom's voice had dropped slightly as his temper was starting to rise. Cain was resilient however and shook his head, "truth is valid." 

"What is it that you want us to do, exactly?" Pyrrhus cut in, trying to sever whatever incident was about to occur. He knew his friend was just trying to protect that which he loved, Lolita meant the world to Cain. Something he knew Tom would never be able to comprehend. Sure, he had Delilah, but did that really change anything? Pyrrhus admired Tom, but he'd see the world burn if it meant he was king of the ashes, even if Delilah was the cost he had to pay. His ambition clouded his judgement, rationality, and morals. 

It will be the death of him.

"At the moment, nothing. We don't know enough yet, first we need to figure out the guards rounds. I'm leaving that to Lestrange and Avery." Tom ignored how Cain had clenched his jaw, rolling his shoulders he came to realize he had been going too soft on them these past few months. More and more do they all seem persistent to fight back, speak whenever they aren't permitted to. A cruciatus curse fired at them is what they needed, but Tom knew damn well Delilah would find out about it. She'd be livid, he couldn't have that. Not when he was so close. 

"It's an old house, I'll give you the location, stake out and figure out their schedule." 

_______________________________

The group divided as they made their way into town, the boys going who knows where as Lolita and Olive dragged Delilah to a small cafe for lunch. 

They had only just gotten their food when Lolita dropped her spoon and blurted, "tell us everything." Delilah raised a brow as she bit into her sandwich, feigning being clueless. Olive rolled her eyes and aimed her fork at the blonde, "we're not stupid, you two didn't make it back until at least three in the morning."

"And you slept in his room," Lolita pointed out. She flushed and her chewing slowed, eventually losing her appetite in full, "nothing happened." 

They stare at her.

"I'm not lying! Yes, we might've shared a kiss, but that's it."

"Fine, I believe you. Besides, I think we would've definitely heard you if you two did sleep together, I don't even think I'd be able to keep quiet." Olive muttered and Delilah choked on her drink. "So, why are you moving into his room?" Delilah huffed and twirled her necklace, "you lot are more nosy than Lavender."

"Who?"

"An old friend... anyway, I don't really think my love life is any of your business." Lolita smirked, "love life? So there is a relationship?" She groaned slightly, that urge to jump off a cliff coming back to her. 

"Sorry, this is exciting! Riddle is so, how do I even put this? He's just different. You're like a heaven sent, he's changed you know. Definitely for the better- don't tell him I said that." 

The girls continued to talk but Delilah zoned them out. Has he really changed? She didn't think so, the only thing she could think of was that he was no longer trying to kill her. That's a rather low bar. 

"After everything he's done, " Delilah suddenly said, her voice ceasing whatever the two girls were talking about. "After _everything_... how could I just do that? Let him back into my life?" Olive shared a glance with Lolita before reaching over and grabbing Delilah's hand. "We forgive people so we don't lose them," she gave her hand a squeeze before the sight of Tom appeared in the window, he was in deep conversation with Abraxas.

"Even if they don't deserve it." 

There was a sharp tap on the window and Delilah flinched, turning in her seat she saw Elio gesture for them to come along. 

_______________________________

Cain pushed open the doors rather aggressively when they reached the manor again, clearly still pissed off about the current situation. Tom was merely annoyed at his childlike antics, how could he not realize this was so much bigger than them? 

An arm was suddenly thrown over his shoulder and he stiffened, "cheer up, mate. Good news." Aleksander smiled broadly, his demeanor not being tainted despite the deadly glare Tom was carving with his eyes. He patted him on the chest before sauntering off towards the bar to pour himself a drink. "Anyone else?" Aleksander waved a glass around and Pyrrhus perked up, "whiskey please, Irish."

"Same here," Cain sighed as he slumped in a chair, Lolita walked over to run her fingers lightly through his hair. She knew it helped calm him down. "Why not a round for everyone?" Delilah suggested and Aleksander clicked his tongue in agreement. 

Tom reluctantly took a glass from Abraxas and watched as the bronze liquid poured into the cup, swirling and making itself a home. After a brief pause, he raised his glass and the rest followed with expectant eyes. "To opportunities," with that he downed the burning alcohol. The group murmured the same phrase and Delilah felt her mouth go a bit dry yet water at the same time. 

"So, what did you find out? What's the good news?" Olive asked as she took a seat on the arm of Aleksander's chair. Cain poured himself another drink and did his best to ignore the look Lolita was giving him, "there's only one group of guards who have watch, however, we only saw them walk out. Riddle, you said there's another entrance?" 

He nodded and set the glass down, "Eques, you're brother is prepared, correct?" Aleksander hummed and he grew a bit more tense, sure he was excited for their plans, he couldn't help his nerves however. They were breaking into the Ministry. "In three weeks time, we'll be waltzing into a government building right under the Minister's nose." 

"Speaking of," Delilah chimed as she waved at them all. "You lot have been practicing your patronus' right? This is important." They nodded, though she knew some probably haven't thought about it since they last met in the Room of Requirement. “I've nearly got a full corporeal one," Elio smiled but it fell slightly as he stared at the silver glint of his necklace hanging on Delilah's neck. "I don't know what's holding me back, though."

The group fell into their own conversations and Delilah made her way over to Tom, lightly nudging him in the arm. "What about you, eh?" 

"What about me?" 

"Your patronus. Have you even attempted the spell? You didn't participate last time." He simply shrugged and Delilah bit at her lip before a smile grew on her lips, causing him to look down at her in question. "What?"

"You're embarrassed to fail in front of them. Of course you are, mister perfect. Though I'd suggest you'd get over your vanity and practice, this spell provides the greatest protection." 

Tom scoffed slightly, he wasn't embarrassed. Though he was admittedly annoyed Elio had seemed to get a better hang of it before he did. That being said, he had been practicing. In fact, while he couldn't sleep he had spent about three hours out in the gardens trying to get something more than a fucking mist to come out of his wand. He was frustrated, how could one possibly have a happiest memory? Something that strikes pure joy deep in the heart. Not pleasure, not temporary feelings of euphoria.

True happiness.

Something Tom came to realize he's never experienced, nor did he think he ever would. His life would be full of pleasures, undoubtedly. Nothing would ever be long term. As he looked down at her, Tom assumed she was probably the closest he would get. Even then, people are temporary. They turn to dust. 

But not him, never him. Not with his goals, he had one foe to defeat and then he might just make it. He'd be complete. Tom poured himself another glass to hide his smirk, oh poor dear Delilah.

Had she really forgotten, did he have that much influence? Perhaps his shit graduation speech was better than he thought.

Grindelwald's private collection wasn't his endgame, not even the Ministry, that was just a stepping stone in his path. No, his life's ambition was honed in on one thing, his last enemy to defeat.

Tom Riddle would become Master of Death, and there wasn't a damn person who could stop him.

Not even her. 

________________________________

Later that night everyone was in the foyer. Abraxas was at the piano, showing the skills he'd learned due to years of forced practice. Meanwhile Lolita was singing 'I'm Making Believe' as she danced with Cain. The atmosphere was warm and inviting but Delilah felt suffocated by it. 

Giving Elio a smile, she stood and walked out to the balcony, the breeze felt nice as it combed through her hair and she could smell the salt. Though her moment of brief peace shattered when a waft of tobacco hit her. 

Tom walked out, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he leaned against the edge. They stood side by side for awhile, just star gazing as the music hummed behind them through the french doors. A sigh left her lips and her head dropped, of all of time, of eternity, it had to be her thrown into this shit situation. 

"What happens after?"

"Hm?"

"After the ministry," her voice was softer than he's ever heard it as she rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her gaze focused on the stars. There was so much out there, undoubtedly other life. Or God. Who knows. If there was some all powerful being out there, she had obviously pissed them off.

"After you leave, you mean?"

Delilah screwed her eyes shut but the imprint of glimmering dots danced behind her eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. "What are you going to do?"

He shrugged and she lifted her head, turning her body towards him. "I know you have a plan," one doesn't just break into the Ministry for nothing.

"Well, it's not like you're going to be around to see it," his voice was cold but she didn't flinch, she did however frown. His tone had hurt laced through it. He couldn't actually care about her that much, could he? "Hey," she looped her arm through his but he didn't budge. "Tom, look at me."

His jaw clenched as he tilted his head down. He had been mistaken, of course he had. Why did he even allow himself for a second to think she'd actually stay, for him of all people. It pained him as she smiled gently, yet he was completely unaware of the pain digging through her chest as she looked at him. "You'll be alright."

She knew he wouldn't. 

Something happened then that she hadn't seen in a long while, his mask of cold indifference clouded his features and he suddenly seemed so far away. "Of course I will, why wouldn't I be?"

Her features fell and she let go of his arm. 

"Right, of course. I've forgotten who I'm talking to. The man with no meaning besides making everyone feel like shit, Tom Riddle. Honestly, what was I thinking? You're never gonna stop being him." His brows furrowed but he knew now wasn't the time to ask.

"Delilah-"

"What? What could you possibly have to say?"

Tom's throat felt tight, he couldn't breathe, he felt like screaming might grant him some relief. He wasn't what she needed, he knew that. Delilah didn't really see him, she made someone up and put the skin on someone else. Someone she could actually care for, and who could care for her in return. He's not.. he wasn't the made up one. He never would be.

Tom was terrified she'd eventually end up seeing too much of what she didn't like. He wanted to reach out, yearned to, but he felt paralyzed.

Delilah rubbed at her eyes with the palm of her hands, her shoulders dropping, "after everything I did? Everything I've done to help you. Do you even care?"

"Of course I do."

"Then act like it." 

A long, heavy pause followed as he raised a shaking hand to run through his hair. "How?" The timidness in his voice threw her off, he looked like the confused boy he truly was as he stood in front of her. Was he really so lost that she had to explain it to him? Against all her better judgement, she took a step forward and grabbed hold of his hand. "The easiest way to put this is don't be a dick."

Tom laughed, it was a soft rumble that carried across the air in a gentle explosion. He appreciated her trying to lighten the mood. "That appears to be simple enough." Delilah chuckled dryly, "you would think that, wouldn't you?"

Absentmindedly, they began to sway to the music, Lolita was singing 'I'll Never Smile Again' and the sound of laughter was mixed in. 

_____________________________

"About Grindelwald's collection," Tom began but stopped short and she groaned rather dramatically. Of course he had to ruin the moment. He tapped a finger under her chin, urging her to look up and she gave him a satiric smile. "As I was saying, I think we should try to get back in soon, hopefully if I'm not being too outrageous, tomorrow." He walked over to his desk and opened up one of the drawers, pulling out an ancient looking book.

Unknown to Delilah, he nicked it from the collection before Grindelwald's men waltzed in. It had to do with dark artifacts, something to help guide him to what he needs in the Ministry, as well as what Delilah could possibly need. As the minutes ticked by, nothing from the worn pages jumped out at him, he pinched his nose before finally asking that damned question. 

"Why can't you ever return, let alone write?"

Delilah stiffened as she walked out of the bathroom, adjusting her nightie just so she had something to do. "I told you-"

"No, you really didn't. Don't lie to me."

This conversation was the last thing she wanted to be having. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it."

Delilah gaped at him as she sat on the bed, pressing her back into the headboard until it nearly hurt. "It's not that simple." Tom sighed and closed his eyes, "nothing ever is." Setting down the book, he turned and saw that she had laid down, buried under the blood red sheets. She watched as he walked over and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. 

"Strip tease? I never expected that from you, color me surprised." 

Tom glared at her before shrugging the fabric off his shoulders. He looked at the bed a bit longer than necessary, just standing at the foot as his eyes bore into the many creases and ripples of silk. Delilah observed him for a moment as well before clearing her throat, "problem?"

He bit his cheek, still not looking at her, "it's hard sleeping next to you." 

The silence that followed after was tense and she felt as if she was going to break, or perhaps he was. "Tom if you don't feel comfortable with me being in  here I can conjure a cot or something."

"It's not that, it's just-" his fingers ran over the cool fabric as if it was water, watching how it glinted in the candlelight. "I never got my own bed when I was younger." Delilah knew he was talking about the orphanage, and damn her if she ever felt the slightest bit of pity for him. Nonetheless, she smiled and made her way to the edge of the bed and sat on her knees. "It's okay if-"

"It's fine, I can manage. Besides the main issue here is that you smell like peppermint. It's a tad overwhelming." Delilah laughed and poked him on the shoulder, "and you smell like cigarettes, do you see me complaining?" 

It wasn't a complaint, he thought.

Her cheeks flushed as their eyes locked onto one another. Her fingers lightly traced over the many scars as they ran down his arms and she took hold of his hands, tugging him onto the mattress. "I suppose I'll just stop eating pepper imps, then."

"Why would you do that? You love those." 

 

Delilah did everything she could to ignore the butterflies acting up in her stomach. Lightly pushing his chest, Tom fell onto his back and looked up at her as the coolness of silk sunk into his skin. He watched as she laid down, one arm draped over his midsection as she rested her head on his chest. 

He was stiff for a moment, but slowly he rested a hand on her back and began lightly running it up and down her spine. He could feel the scar tissue. Not a single inch of her back seemed to be untouched. What could she have possibly gone through to sustain such wounds? Was this why she had to leave? His mind went back to the day of their DADA exam, of the boggart who took shape of a maniacal woman with a whip, and how Delilah had laughed over the sight of her corpse. 

Was that woman responsible? A fire so intense ached in his chest, his nerves burning with fury. If that woman was responsible, he'd end her. He's never seen her before, hadn't the faintest clue. But the world became small when he was angry with someone, they'd have nowhere to run. As he looked down at Delilah with her eyes closed he knew, if he did find that woman, he'd burn the heart out of her. The killing curse would be a kindness, one she didn't deserve.

Tom desperately wanted to ask, but he knew better. Hopefully she'd tell him in her own time. Delilah wasn't meant to be handled with caution. Her worth was priceless, to anyone that knew her. And with the knowledge someone had tried to take that from her carved into him worse than any blade ever could.


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

A tantalizing scent met her nose, almost lethargic as she absentmindedly inhaled. Her mind felt numb for a moment and she nuzzled her head further into the mattress, it was soft and warm, but oddly hard.

Slowly blinking her eyes open, Delilah came to realize she was wrapped around Tom. His breathing was steady, the rise of his chest every few moments in a rhythm put her at ease. She could feel more than hear his heart beat as her head laid against his midsection. Her arm was draped over him and Delilah became acutely aware of the fact that her leg was wedged between his.

She didn't make an effort to move.

He was leaned up against the headboard, bathed in soft orange light from the candle. One hand held a worn leather bound book, his other was running a single finger along the nape of her neck.

Delilah eyed the cigarette hanging from his lips, smoke billowing in swirls. Tom pulled the joint from his lips and tapped it on an ashtray next to the bed, she watched as the ash crumbled softly.

"Why do you smoke?"

His gaze remained on the words, from her angle she couldn't see what exactly he was reading but the pages were yellowed with age. "Helps with nerves." Tom replied flatly. Her lips quirked upwards slightly as she leaned her chin on his abdomen, tracing a nail along one of the many scars that littered his skin. "Do I make you nervous?" The question was a simple tease and rather just a jab, but the way his eyes slowly raked along her body made her smile drop, she shivered.

"In that night gown you do."

In a weak attempt to hide her blush, Delilah looked towards the window and saw it was still dark out. "What time is it?"

"Four in the morning."

Her brows raised slightly as she sat up, "why are you awake?" Chills ravished her skin as he placed a hand on her leg, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the inside of her thigh.

"In an hour or so we need to get everyone up, we're heading back into the collection today. I'd prefer we do it early."

"But we don't know where the other entrance is."

"Which is why we're going through the front, it'll be easier to find it inside."

Delilah paled as she recalled the nightmare like scenario she had to go through the first time, "but the defenses set up, the cave, I..."

Sighing, Tom stubbed out the cigarette and rested the book against his chest. "We need to get in."

"Do I have to go? Can't I just, I don't know, stand watch outside?"

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating his words and he squeezed her thigh slightly. Tom's lips quirked a bit as he watched her breath hitch. "I need you there with me. It called to you, and you're the only one who can open the door."

Slumping against him, Delilah observed their reflection in the mirror across from the bed. It was odd, they looked so normal. Just a boy and a girl, wrapped up in each other on a plush mattress.

"I can't handle seeing Harrison again, not like that." 

"It's not real. It's a defense mechanism that latches onto ones psyche, making their worst fears, memories, nightmares, et cetera appear in front of them. It's very effective, but now that you know it's not real, it'll be easier."

Delilah tried to feel at ease with his words, but panic was still shooting through her. The image of her brother may not be real, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Tom tapped a finger below her chin, his dark brown eyes latching onto hers, giving her a wordless promise that she'd be okay.

Reluctantly, she agreed.

_______________________________

Dawn was just christening as the group walked through the town. The only other signs of life were the calls of seagulls and shop owners unlocking their doors.

"It's beautiful here," Lolita sighed as she rested her head against Cain's shoulder, looping her arm through his. He hummed and placed a chaste kiss to her temple, "wedding location, perhaps?"

"Oh, a beach wedding would be marvelous."

"We could get a small town house, one along the edge of a cliff, imagine waking up to this sunrise every morning." Cain gestured to the houses lining the cobblestone streets, narrow and tall, but homelike.

"Rosie would love it here, don't you think? And she'd have to be our flower girl of course, she'd be livid if she wasn't." Lolita looked up at her fiancé with such admiration, her heart swelling at the sound of his laugh.

"She's always wanted to go to the beach, Merlin knows she'd probably kick sand everywhere." Cain's little sister was a nuisance, but he loved her to death. He didn't have that close of a relationship with his family, but with Rosie and Lolita, that was all he needed. They made his world go around, pushing him to keep going.

"Perhaps she could live with us, in do time. I know you don't like her living in that big manor alone with your parents." Lolita said softly, twining her fingers with his as she raised his hand and placed a kiss to his knuckles.

Cain smiled slightly at the idea, Rosie would be so much happier with him and Lolita to watch over her, they'd actually be there for her.

His life was finally starting to settle down, all they had left to do was the Ministry break in and they'd be done. For the most part at least. Cain would have the life he's always wanted, with the girl he loves, and the sister he adores.

Everything was falling into place.

Elio was walking next to Delilah, his hands shoved in his pockets as he kicked a pebble around. "Are you ready? To go home, I mean."

The answer that should've left her lips was yes, but she hesitated.

Dumbledore warned her about this, but she dismissed him. Like always. Maybe if he hadn't been so cryptic, she would've taken better caution. Then again, Delilah didn't think anyone could've predicted these past few months and really, she had no one to blame but herself.

What would she even tell her friends when she got back? How much time would've passed, days? Months? Years? With the time turner, Delilah could only hope no time would've passed at all. Maybe none would, but she was a different person now. Time passed for her.

Delilah's eyes locked onto the back of Tom and she didn't know whether the lack of guilt she felt was a good thing. If her friends found out who her heart belonged to, they'd never forgive her. Nonetheless, she didn't regret one moment.

A few months with him had gifted her a life time of experiences, and she couldn't be more thankful.

God, Harry would be so disappointed in her.

Anger she could handle, anger softens over time. Even hatred. Disappointment however, was a slow burn no one fully recovers from. Would she even be able to look Harry in the eye, knowing she's fallen for the man who would kill his parents and so many others he loved?

When she did leave, that'd be it. Delilah Pontmercy would be wiped from existence, just a shadow passing through, a flicker of light. There one moment and gone the next. She'd be dying all over again.

"Will you remember me?"

Elio furrowed his brows and pulled her to a stop, the rest of the group oblivious.

"How could I not?"

She felt like he was just saying that, she knew. "Sure for awhile maybe, but over time memory loses its hold." Merlin, was she really this selfish? She didn't want them mourning over her or anything, but part of her didn't oppose the idea. "Just, spare me a thought from time to time?"

"Delilah," Elio began, his tone hardening but remained soft and gentle. He placed his hands on her cheeks to urge her to look at him, his pale green eyes calming her. "You have made such an impact not only on me, but everyone. No one will forget you, it's simply not possible."

She smiled slightly, "am I really that annoying?"

He laughed lightly and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You're unbelievable."

Truth is, he didn't want her to leave. He'd do anything to make her stay, but that was wrong and he'd never forgive himself for keeping her away from her family.

Delilah closed her eyes as everything poured in, how amazing and wonderful Elio was. How he always said the right thing. "Elio," she began. 

She'd regret this, but then again maybe not.

He hummed and looked down at her. She bit her cheek and eyed down the street, the group just about to make a turn.

"I have to tell you something, and you have to swear not to tell anyone."

"You're hopelessly smitten for Lolita? You know honestly I'm not surprised and I would-"

Delilah squeezed her eyes shut and placed a hand over his mouth, causing Elio's smile to drop and his teasing manner to diminish. "Swear to me, if you love me, swear to me you'll never tell. Especially Tom." She knew she was being unfair and cruel, laying this weight on him felt wrong but everything was just waiting to burst out of her.

Elio's jaw set and he looked at her for a moment, searching, before nodding once. "Okay."

She took a breath, and she told him everything.

From the moment she ‘died’ at the Ministry, to when she arrived, all the meetings with Dumbledore. She told him everything apart from the fact that Tom Riddle was Voldemort, and that he was the one who killed her.

Elio just stared, for what felt like the longest time. Slowly, shock seemed to register on his face as his eyes darted back and forth, up and down, all over her. His mind was reeling. "How are you okay? Are you okay? Fucking hell," he then pulled her into a bone crushing hug that knocked the wind out of her.

Confused, she patted him on the back slowly. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because I didn't tell you, I've been lying for months."

"Not telling and lying are two very different things, Delilah. And considering your situation, I believe you're allowed some lee way. You did what you had to."

A warmness filled her, "why are you so wonderful?"

She felt his chuckle through his chest. Delilah suddenly felt light, then. Relief surging through her at the notion that finally someone knew, someone who wasn't Dumbledore.

After a moment he cupped the back of her head and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, "we have to get you home, Delilah Meddows." He didn't sound eager or happy, but he was determined.

It was odd hearing her actual name after all these months.

"Listen," pulling back she circled her arm with his as they continued to walk. "About the Ministry break in, that's where I'll find what I need to get home." He raised a brow, raking his mind to think of anything capable of doing that until it clicked.

"A time turner?"

She smiled, but it was more strained than she would've liked.

_________________________________

Finally they reached the old house and Tom raised a brow at Delilah in a 'where the hell have you been?' sort of way. He looked between Elio and her, how their arms were twined, it was obvious something just transpired between them but now wasn't the time to ask.

"Rosier and Eques, you're posted a block down. Hornby and Tremblay, lamp post down the street. Lestrange and Avery, you've got the back. Malfoy, you circulate." Everyone nodded, as well as yawned seeing as Tom had woken them up so early.

He nodded his head towards Delilah and she reluctantly walked over to him at the foot of the doorway to the house, her eyes weary. Tom took her hand in his, running a thumb along the scar before giving her palm a squeeze, letting her know he wasn't going anywhere.

That pull latched onto her again, filling her up with surety as she took a step into the house. Her fear drifted away as it lured her towards that winding hall. Tom watched curiously as she dropped his hand, it looked as if she was gliding.

They reached the cave like room, nothing had seemed to change. The cold stone surrounded them and that empty vastness against the far wall stood daunting. Tom was a few cautious feet behind her, his wand at the ready.

The inky blackness pooled into her eyes. Delilah felt her breathing slow as her mind began to go fuzzy, she'd been preparing herself to see Harrison again, but the cavern greeted her with something unexpected.

She crumbled to the floor.

What sounded like a banshee screaming tore from Delilah, her eyes not being able to leave the abyss in front of her.

"Hey," Tom kneeled down beside her, brushing the hair away from her face. Her back would arch off the floor before slamming back down again as she thrashed, she looked like someone was killing her.

What the hell was she seeing?

"Lilah, look at me darling," her pupils were dialted and it took a moment for her to even sense where his voice was coming from, flashes of those months were on replay in her head and she felt like tearing her hair out.

"All that pain? I can take it, let me take it." She gripped at his hand and shook her head furiously, she couldn't let him see this. Not this. She didn't want anyone knowing, especially not him. Never him.

"Give it to me."

"No no no, you don't understand-" she cut herself off with a scream, and Tom placed his fingers to her temple, his eyes rolling back as he took whatever she was seeing away, imbedding it in himself.

When he heard the crack of a whip he whirled around, the black void of the cave warping into what looked like an airy room in a manor. With a few more seconds he came to realize it was the Malfoy residence.

The room was filled with people he's never seen before, although they looked slightly familiar. Like echoes of a few families he knew. He didn't recognize Delilah at first, but when he did his stomach dropped and he felt sick. Her back was basically torn to shreds, covered in blood, bits of skin hanging off.

Her shirt was nothing but soaked threads of fabric, the cloth sticking into the deep gashes of her back. She was shaking, her feet slipping on her own blood that was pooled on the floor.

A woman with wild black hair stood a few feet away holding a whip, blood splattered over her pale skin. Tom registered it was the woman that the boggart has changed into.

She wasn't doing anything, she just stood panting and Tom realized she was waiting. Waiting for to Delilah to cave, to break, to beg for mercy.

Even as Delilah was hanging from a wooden post located in the middle of the room, her muscles straining to keep her upright, she would not beg.

The woman was panting, wiping away sweat at spat at the floor next to Delilah. She cackled in amusement as Delilah tried to stand up, only causing her feet to give out as her body hung painfully by the metal shackles on her wrists.

Her torturer pulled her arm backward and landed another blow to the girls back. Delilah took to biting into her arm until she tasted blood, screaming through the paint that seemed to pulse.

The sounds tearing from her throat sounded guttural. Tom couldn't handle it, he placed his hands over his ears but it was fruitless, everything just seemed to get louder. He tried to take a step forward, to get to Delilah, but he couldn't move. His feet were stuck to the floor, paralyzed.

Stalking forward, the woman gripped Delilah by her hair, yanking her head back. "Look at me." Her voice was a quiet whisper, her breath tickling Delilah's cheek, but she kept her eyes wound shut.

"Look at me!" Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes, greeted by the sight of a monster in the form of a mad woman. "Think you've had enough, you filthy half-breed?" She asked, her tone light and teasing. She let go of Delilah's hair and her head rolled forward, all her muscles quivering with their last bit of energy.

She stepped back angrily, her breaths coming out short and harsh. And before Delilah could string together a coherent thought, lash after lash assaulted her already maimed back.

The woman had thrown away whatever restrictions she set on herself. There were no breaks between, no taunts, just deep lacerations on repeat. Delilah felt light headed and she started to lose feeling in her back and arms. "I will cut into you until your bones make an appearance. Or perhaps I'll bleed you dry? You deserve such a thing for speaking ill of the Dark Lord." She hissed.

Her face was one contorted into sheer agony, Delilah's eyes blinking rapidly as things started to go blurry. She looked around the room and her eyes landed on one person.

The boy with platinum blonde hair looked like he was about to faint. His already pale skin had gone a sickly grey, he was sweating, and he was leaning against a wall. His head was turned away from Delilah, though her screams were causing his legs to shake.

Tom recognized him from one of Delilah's other memories, she had called him Malfoy. Anger at the boy ignited in his chest. Both times he's seen him in one of her memories, he'd turned his back as Delilah got scarred. First her hand, now this.

Blood started to pour from Delilah's mouth due to her biting at her cheeks and tongue with such force, a weak attempt to keep the pain at bay. She was on the verge of blacking out, her head hung back and her hair was damp with sweat and blood.

The young Malfoy wasn't the only one who looked ghastly. An older looking Malfoy and a woman with blonde streaks in her hair looked just as shaken, and a handful of the other people in the room had turned their heads long ago, not being able to bear the sight of a seventeen year old girl being cut open relentlessly for hours.

Tom screamed out in fury, but no sound left his lips. He wanted to curse them all, kill them all, for just standing by and watching this happen.

What he really wanted to do was take that whip and wrap it around the mad woman's neck before dangling her off the highest point on earth he could find. He could almost picture the satisfaction he would feel as he heard the snap of her neck.

Instead he was greeted with another crack through the air. The woman's eyes were alight as she took in the beauty of her creation of crimson. His ears were ringing at the sound of her maniacal laughter and Delilah's screams.

The woman was about to land another hit when the woman with blonde streaks suddenly spoke. "For Merlin's sake, Bella look at her!"

The more he looked, they looked awfully alike. Perhaps sisters? Bella, he assumed that was her name, was about to snap at her sister when she stopped short at the sight of her victim. 

Delilah's eyes were closed, mouth hung ajar, and she was swaying slightly. Completely limp. "Oh no, have I gone and killed her?" Bella whimpered falsely, skipping over to the girl, nearly slipping on her blood.

She pouted when she noticed the girl was alive, but really it was some what of a relief for her. "That Lovegood girl is useless when it comes to information about Harry Potter." She traced a nail along the girls jaw, down her neck, to her shoulders, and stopped just before her back.

"But miss Delilah, you'll be incredibly helpful indeed."

She was about to poke at the girls wounds, an excited smile on her face, when someone gripped her arm. She whirled around, wand raised, but paused at the sheer ferocity in her sisters eyes.

"Bellatrix that's enough."

Suddenly Delilah's head snapped up, but no one seemed to notice. Her head slowly turned and her bloodshot eyes landed right on Tom, red was running out the sides of her mouth and her teeth were stained.

He fell to his knees at how broken she looked.

"You did this."

Tom threw himself back, looking over at the real Delilah wide eyed and panting. She was currently curled up in a ball, hitting her head repeatedly against the stone floor. His eyes danced between the her golden hair and her back. One look at Delilah and one would never imagine the hell she's been through.

_I did this._

Her screams were still echoing in his head as he carefully made his way over to her and eased a hand under her head to stop her from hitting it further. It pained him when she flinched. He barely registered the sound of the stone wall disappearing and the door emerging.

"It's over," her current pain was his fault, he accepted that and the guilt that gnawed at his chest was overwhelming. He convinced her to come with him.

He eased her up into a sitting position as she shook against his chest, she wasn't crying, a fact he wasn't surprised by, but she looked awfully pale

He rocked her slightly for a moment, "I'm sorry."

That snapped her out of it.

Sniffing, she brushed her tangled hair away from her face as she leaned back, trying to get a grip on her senses. "I'm fine."

He knew she wasn't.

There was a tense silence between them as they made their way into the collection, neither knowing what to say. So instead they distracted themselves by searching, not saying a word. 

Tom poked around more shelves of books, pretending to look for an exit as he dove into his thoughts. Wondering, trying to see what she could possibly need to get from the Department of Mysteries.

He had the basics; travel, no return, no communication, secretive, able to hide.

He came up short, however he wasn't so fruitless in his attempts with the object he needed. Months of research was now starting to fall into place, and with the help of the collections books, he was able to find more out.

The object he was looking for wasn't necessarily small, but it was handheld and fragile. It's also either shows visions or multiple scenarios, either of the past or future. He wasn't sure yet, but at least it was something.

About fifteen minutes later they met back up on one of the lower floors. Tom still didn't know what to say, but he knew what he saw wasn't the right topic at the moment. 

"What were you and Rosier talking about?"

Delilah felt uncomfortable, something she wasn't used to feeling around him. Part of her screamed this was his fault, he's why Bellatrix tortured her, he was the root for so much pain. Again and again, she had to remind herself that it was Voldemort's fault. But now, Tom had seen the lowest part of her life, he's seen more of her than anyone.

Was she okay with that?

Delilah forced herself to chuckle, "jealous?"

His nose scrunched, "hardly."

They're quiet.

Walking down another floor, eventually she sighed and grabbed hold of his arm, "Tom."

"We don't have to talk about it."

"I know you probably want to."

"Right now is not about what I want."

"That's a first."

He smiled slightly and she tried to return it.

The air around them was a bit lighter as they reached the bottom floor, searching each crevice for any hint of an exit. Raising her wand, she cast revelio but nothing happened.

"It's clearly protected."

She glared at him, "I know."

Tom was circling one of the back walls, running his fingers along the wall. This far down everything was stone, including the floor, jagged and uneven. He was about to turn around when something caught his eye. Bending down, he lit the tip of his wand and an almost manic smile breached his lips.

"Gotcha."

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows could just barely be made out, but it was there. He traced the marking lightly before pressing the center of it, slowly the wall sunk back and a passage formed out of the wall.

"Holy shit," Delilah mumbled as she stood behind him. He motioned for her to go first, a rather smug smile on his lips and she rolled her eyes.

It was a long and winding passage, some areas ridiculously steep and slippery, so they had to grip onto loose roots and imbedded rocks. Tom would've been complaining more, but his view wasn't too bad considering Delilah was wearing a dress.

Eventually the sound of waves met their ears and the smell of salt greeted their noses. Daylight poured into the cave as the ground evened out, and they exited into what looked like a cave at the base of one of the cliffs that lined the beach.

Tom bit his cheek at all the sand and she snickered before muttering they should go get the others.

________________________________

Awe was etched onto each of their faces as they took in the sheer size of the collection.

"Do you think there's a liquor cabinet in here somewhere?" Pyrrhus asked and Abraxas hit him lightly upside the head before walking off.

For the next few hours until the guards returned, they group spent their time looking up defensive spells, hexes, and studying objects they can use. Delilah had also been making them at least practice a bit with their patronus charms, her nerves were put at some ease seeing as most of the group almost had corporal forms.

Elio couldn't stop looking at her.

Delilah was still the same but... new. Layer upon layer kept getting added to her character, the complexity almost overwhelming. He snapped out of it slightly as Tom walked over to her, the barest touch on her arm and she smiled slightly.

Elio saw how Delilah and Tom acted toward one another, it wasn't overly physical, but the small touches and the way they looked at each other made it obvious.

There was an understanding between them, Delilah looked happier than Elio's ever seen her. Not necessarily that she was bouncing off the walls at the moment, but there was a glimmer in her eye.

Someone clapped him on the back. "It'll get better." Pyrrhus said quietly, looking at Tom and Delilah as well. Elio smiled the best he could and shrugged his friend off. "I'm fine." But the truth was, he was the happiest he'd ever been with Delilah, and now that was over. Tom yet again took something he held dear and he couldn't do the slightest thing about it.

He was still in love with her, despite everything. She was happier with Tom, and he had to accept that even though it hurt like hell. 

Turning his gaze back towards the couple, he wondered how Tom would handle her leaving. Now that Elio knew there was no possible way of her returning, he didn't know if Tom had fully accepted that yet. It was never easy for Tom to let go of things he valued.

How would he handle it? 

Elio wanted to be believe that Tom didn't actually feel anything, that he wasn't human. He used to be, but then Delilah came along and warped his reality.

Tom would break, and the repercussions of that might cause him to lash out towards the source of his pain.

If Tom was to break her heart, Elio just hoped Delilah knew he'd be there for her. If not as a lover, then as a friend.

Always.

No matter where she was, who she was with, or when.

A little later Delilah was off with Cain, trying to decipher some symbols they found littered in a few different books.

Tom was standing at a large desk, numerous scrolls around him as he poured over the information. Hearing footsteps approach, he looked up for a moment and saw it was Elio.

"Anything useful?" He asked as he unrolled another piece of parchment.

Elio was silent, trying to figure out a way to approach this topic, it was a long shot Tom would even listen to him.

"She's leaving soon."

Tom felt his shoulders tense but kept himself moving "yes, she is."

"And what are you going to do?"

That was the same thing Delilah asked him, but he didn't answer. "What do you need?"

Elio sighed and looked over at Delilah, she was laughing as Pyrrhus strutted around with a knights helmet on. "Why are you doing this now? It'll only hurt more."

"Meaning?"

"You're finally accepting you have a heart, and now she's leaving. You can't stop her... don't be angry at her."

Tom snapped the book he had grabbed shut and rested his hands on the table before looking at Elio.

Debating.

"I'm trying not to be."

Elio was slightly surprised Tom was actually talking to him, but didn't let it show on his face.

"Finally I have something right in my life, and she's just," he rubbed his eyes. "Walking away."

"It's not any easier for her, Riddle. She'd probably go to hell an back for you."

Tom's jaw clenched as he remembered this morning, she already had.

"And I'm sure she'd give anything to stay."

They stood there for a moment, "this is going to hurt both of you. Probably in a way you may not ever recover from. Maybe it would be best if you..." he trailed, trying to find his wording.

Tom thought for a moment before deciding to hell with it, and poked into Elio's mind. It only took him a second to figure out the boys thought before he stood up straight, whatever semi truce they had reached shattered.

"You want me to stay away from Delilah?" Tom said slowly and watched as Elio paled slightly at the realization Tom read his mind, but he shook his head and pushed onward.

"It'd be better if you did, for both of you."

Elio felt like he was being burned alive with the way Tom was glaring at him, but he cleared his throat, "I'd feel better knowing I had your word.” 

Tom's lips tilted up slightly, "I'm sure you would."

He waved his wand and everything the group had moved went back to its original place. Delilah crinkled her nose slightly in annoyance as the book she was holding flew out of her hand. She was trying to find any information on what that object could've been that sent her to the forties in the first place.

"It's about time we leave, we'll return tomorrow."

_________________________________

As they walked through the manor, Delilah took hold of Tom's arm and led him down to the first floor and into the kitchens. He raised a brow but didn't question it, his eyes following the numerous house elves that worked around them, offering food every few minutes.

Delilah took to snacking on a piece of bread when she finally snapped under his heavy gaze. "People like me and you should say things to each other." Tom's eyes didn't pull away from her when his voice spoke out and echoed around the kitchen, "leave us."

The elves scattered and Delilah felt the loss of their company, she didn't like how quiet it had gone.

After minutes ticked by, Tom sighed and began to walk aimlessly around. "Who was that woman? I've seen her before, during the defense against the dark arts exam."

Delilah remained quiet.

How the hell was she supposed to explain that Bellatrix was working for him, that she was one of his fanatical followers.

"She said Dark Lord, she works for Grindelwald?"

Delilah nodded mutely, it was close enough. But the weight of all the lies she'd been telling these past few months suddenly dropped on her shoulders and she felt like collapsing. Just one more, was what she kept telling herself. One more lie and everything will be fine.

"That's why I've been here, seeking asylum, but I've been around too long. I need to keep moving which is why I can't come back-"

"Bullshit."

Delilah blinked at Tom, "what do you mean?"

" _Why_? Why cant you tell me? Where are you going?"

"Home-"

The clatter of metal echoed in the kitchen as Tom kicked a side table and it went toppling. The dishes clanging to the floor and the heavy dull wood hitting the stone.

She shut her eyes and took a breath, Tom mentally scolded himself for losing his temper as he paced, raking his hands through his hair and tugging at the roots.

Maybe Elio was right, maybe he should stay away.

Oh, the genius of pain. Perhaps if he got it over with now, it would hurt less down the line, maybe. All he had lately were maybes.

"Delilah I think we should stop."

She paled.

"Don't."

"It makes sense. But Merlin, is it fucking ironic." There she was, his light slipping through his fingers. Sure, without Delilah around he wouldn't be so distracted. But what is success when you've lost hope?

"You don't mean that," her voice was a rasp as she shook her head.

"What are we doing? You're about to up and leave, what am I supposed to do? Go on? Pretending I didn't even know you? Or am I supposed to shove you into a corner of my mind, only sparing you a thought now and then, until one day there's nothing."

Her chest burned, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" He laughed and dug in his pocket, pulling out the cigarette box she'd gifted him. The engraved words practically screamed at him; amor vincit omnia. 

 _Apparently not_ , he thought as he took in the Latin scrawl.

He lit the cigarette as he leaned against the counter, "Truth is, Delilah, I'm never going to be able to do either of those. I don't have that luxury. I'm going to remember every moment." And it was going to hurt like hell, because no matter what he would do; whether that was drown in booze or immerse himself in his work... she still won't be there.

He snapped out of it when he felt her hands on his ribs, her arms slowly circling around him, embracing him tightly. She placed a kiss below his jaw and he blew the smoke out of his nose in a sigh.

Resting his chin atop her head, his eyes shut and he focused all his attention on her. How she smelt like peppermint, the way her chest pressed to his and how it felt when she breathed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered again.

He wrapped his arms around her and Delilah settled herself in the space between his legs, "don't ever apologize for being better than me."

Because she was, she was being selfless. If he was in her shoes, he'd end everything and everyone just so he could have a few more moments of happiness. He still might.

After all, Tom Riddle was a selfish man.

The kitchen door then threw open, slamming into the wall and Abraxas appeared, looking as if he was about to pass out. He didn't spare their position a thought as he gasped out a barely coherent sentence, "foyer. Cain. Now. Grindelwald."

And then Abraxas was gone.

Delilah and Tom only looked at each other for a second before taking off in a sprint. Since they were on the first floor, well across the manor, they'd been unaware of anything happening the past hour.

However, as soon as they made it to the second floor they could hear screaming and glass shattering. They shot through the door and Delilah and Tom skidded to a stop at the sight in front of them.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

Cain was on his knees, screaming as he clutched Rosie to his chest, his little sister limp and pale.

Dry blood was caked at the corners of her mouth and her eyes were vacant as they looked at her brother.

The sound coming up the back of Cain's throat burned and boiled, sounding too broken to be a scream.

Lolita was on the floor by the couch adjacent to them, biting her knuckles to hold back her sobs, Rosie had been her family too.

Tom was trying to process what was in front of him, how could an eight year old be dead? He'd seen her only a few months ago. She was just a child.

Rosie's arm fell to the side and Tom narrowed his eyes at peculiar red marks on her greenish skin. He began to walk forward but Delilah gripped his elbow and shook her head.

"Her arm," he muttered and her brows furrowed.

Delilah turned her head and squinted her eyes, trying to push down the pain that was carving into her heart. 

" _Didn't anyone ever teach you children not to touch what doesn't belong to you?_ " her eyes then moved down and Delilah's feet finally gave out.

Grindelwald's symbol was carved underneath.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

"Avery-"

Tom was cut off as a fist collided with his nose. Staggering back slightly, his eyes started to water even though it didn't hurt that much. He knew his nose wasn't broken, but it was definitely bleeding.

Cain stood there, his chest heaving and was completely ignoring the ache in his knuckles. He made to lunge for him again, but Tom got hold of his arms and twisted enough to make him stop.

"Your greed blinded you. We shouldn't have gone back, especially so soon and now she's- my- Rosie is dead and it's _your_ fault." Cain punctuated his claim by shoving Tom the best he could, though his movements were a bit weaker this time.

After a few seconds he glanced back at his sister and another sob broke from him, he fell against Tom, taking him down to the floor. Tom's mind was reeling, both with still trying to process what happened and how to deal with Cain's mental break.

He needed to get hold of the situation and quickly, or else Cain would spiral and be of no use. Placing his hands on the side of Cain's face, Tom pressed his forehead against his.

"Look at me."

Bitter coffee brown eyes poured into Cain's, and for a moment he thought he would either kill him for appearing so weak or delve into his mind. Maybe both.

"Your sister is dead."

Cain clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut but Tom shook him slightly, "hey, look at me. She's dead, okay? And I'm sorry, I am. I know you're angry, and you want to avenge her. And you should, she deserves it."

Reaching over, Tom took hold of Rosie's arm, "but if you want to avenge your sister, we need to go after those responsible."

Cain took a shuddering breath and willed himself to look at Rosie, taking in the mark of Grindelwald and those dreadful words. Tom observed the boy for a moment before he pressed a finger to Cain's chest, "all that pain, take hold of it, concentrate it, aim it true. That's the only way you're going to keep yourself going."

He nodded, but Tom couldn't ignore the tears in Cain's eyes, they were also puffed and swollen, it's like they inflated. Tom patted the side of his head before standing up. "Do your parents know?"

Cain sniffed, slowly he got up and walked over to his sister, carefully lifting her body to rest her on the couch, "I don't know."

Tom turned his gaze to the others, "how'd she get here?"

"I found her lying in front of the fireplace in one of the rooms down the hall, the door was cracked open." Aleksander said and Tom pinched his nose, a slight sliver of panic shooting through him. "So they know where we're staying," he concluded.

Rubbing at his eyes, the group shared glances. They've never seen Tom Riddle so stressed.

"We need to get out of here," Delilah said for him once she realized his was already lost in his mind. "As soon as possible."

"What are we gonna," Cain took a shaking breath, "... what are we going to do about Rosie?"

"She'll have a proper burial." Aleksander told him, walking over and placing a hesitant hand on his friends shoulder. Lolita wiped away her tears and took hold of Cain's hand, "c'mon, love."

There was a pained smile on his face as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his little sisters forehead.

_____________________________

They had floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron a few hours earlier, none brave enough to leave their rooms nor did they have the energy.

Delilah has been sitting in the window sill for Merlin knows how long, her legs had fallen asleep but she didn't mind. At some point Tom walked in, holding a bowl of soup for her.

"You need to eat."

She ignored him, "she was just a child."

Setting the soup down, he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the bed post, not sure what to do with himself or if she wanted to be touched. This was all new to him.

"War always comes to someone else...usually the innocent."

Delilah bit at her cheek and turned towards him, "Cain's right, we shouldn't have gone back, not so soon."

"We can't change what happened."

She snickered.

Tom sighed slightly and ran a hand through his hair, "you blame me?"

"No," pulling her eyes away from him, she ran a finger along the rusted edge of the window. "Yes... I don't know."

He sat down next to her, elbows on his knees as he pressed his palms to his eyes, he pressed so hard until multicolored dots appeared in his vision. "I'm having difficulty not blaming myself."

Her brows slightly furrowed at how odd she found this entire situation before she shook her head. Voldemort's killed thousands of children without a second thought, he was even going to kill Harry as a baby. He had no remorse.

Tom however looked like he was on the verge of collapsing.

"There's such permanence in death." He thought out loud and Delilah sat quietly, the echo of his soft voice seemed to make her vibrate. "She was eight, nearly nine. So much ahead of her, so much life. She never even got to go to Hogwarts, never got her wand, her robes, not sorted into a house..."

He leaned back, his weight making the glass pane of the window creak, his eyes zoned out. "Did you know she called me her brother once?" A slight laugh left him. "I never wanted siblings, never cared for thought but, I didn't mind her calling me that."

There was a pause, and Delilah was suddenly seeing a different person in front of her. Of course he was still Tom Riddle, but was this really what was buried so deep beneath the surface? Actual, genuine, emotion.

"I would've been proud to have her as a little sister."

Delilah hesitantly raised an arm, not knowing if he wanted to be touched, but he didn't pull back so she looped it with his, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I did this."

She shook her head, closing her eyes as exhaustion finally hit her. "No, Grindelwald did."

"I was being careless-"

"Tom."

Turning towards him, she placed her hands on his cheeks, willing him to look at her. "You cannot blame yourself. If you do, it will eat at you until there's nothing left. Grieve for her, yes. But do not blame yourself."

Sighing through his barely parted lips, he rested his forehead against hers, she could feel his jaw contracting underneath her hands. "Listen to yourself. What you said to Cain back at the manor. Take hold of your pain, or guilt, and focus it. Concentrate." She pulled him up to his feet before taking hold of his hands and wrapping them around her. "Do what you do best."

Tom ran his thumbs back and forth, feeling her back through her shirt, all the scars. "And what would that be?"

"A fighter."

Because in truth, that's what he was when it came down to the basics. He was a fighter. Tom had been fighting the moment he realized the world didn't lend a hand, especially not to people like him. When he realized he was different and the other children would pick on him, when adults would criticize him. He fought for his beliefs, though questionable they may be. He fought for his position and his reputation. He fought for what he held dear.

Life would always push him, and Tom would always back.

______________________________

Well around midnight, the group forced themselves down to have dinner in the downstairs tavern. Not so much to eat, but they knew they needed to talk. Plus, no one was complaining about having some company.

Lolita eventually came down and prepared a plate to take up to Cain, her hands were shaking slightly but other than that she was holding herself together. She had to, her fiancé needed her.

"How's he doing?" Pyrrhus asked. Lolita gave him a tight lipped smile, "hopefully he'll eat."

They knew he wouldn't.

Watchful eyes observed her as she slowly climbed back up the stairs, everyone quiet and picking at their plates. "This is so fucked," Abraxas muttered as he took a swig of whiskey, welcoming the burn that ran down his throat.

Olive was picking at her nails, she hadn't touched her food either, not that it looked appealing in the first place. "I don't understand." They raised a brow and she sighed slightly, half in irritation and the rest due to tiredness. She waved her wand, casting muffilato around their table just in case anyone's ears were burning.

"This is Grindelwald we're talking about. A war lord who's greatest enemy is _the_ Albus Dumbledore. He's the most wanted man in the wizarding world, and no one has seen him in years. What the hell does he want with a group of eighteen year olds?"

They mulled it over and Delilah felt her heart drop.

Grindelwald couldn't possibly know about her, could he? She didn't see how it would be possible. She's never met the man before, and the only two people who knew her true story was Dumbledore and Elio.

Dumbledore sure as hell wouldn't tell his greatest enemy and Elio had only known for a little more than a day. The latter of which must've sensed her panic and squeezed her hand underneath the table. 

"You're right," Tom muttered as he rubbed at his cheek, it didn't make sense. Sure, they broke into his collection. But a group of teens posed a far lesser threat than that of someone like Dumbledore or the Ministry. "If Grindelwald wanted us dead because of what we saw, what we know, we would all be dead by now. Why send a message? Why murder a child? A child he somehow knew was connected with one member of our group. Why are we important?"

"You think he has it out for us?" Aleksander asked skeptically. Tom turned his burning gaze on him, "why waste his time with us, Eques? If he didn't want us to talk, the least he could've done was take our tongues. But no, he sent a dead eight year old to our door with a damn message carved into her skin. He also knew Avery was close with his sister, he had to have. If Grindelwald were to have killed his father or cousin, the reaction would've been severely different."

"Shit," Pyrrhus looked awfully pale and downed alcohol straight from the bottle, the fire whiskey burning and making him feel warm. "We have a war lord after us? An actual fucking war lord that Dumbledore can't even defeat."

"You don't think he can beat him?" Delilah asked with a brow raised.

Abraxas shrugged, "if he can, why hasn't he? He's had loads of opportunities. Rumor has it they even knew each other as kids, they were friends."

Delilah bit her cheek, they were definitely more than friends.

She looked at Tom then, realization dawning on her at how similar her situation was, who was she to judge?

They were all silent for a moment, the bustle of the tavern around them falling on deaf ears. Slowly, Abraxas cleared his throat. "What about the Ministry?"

Everyone turned to look at Tom, wondering what he had planned. Or if he had anything planned at all.

Digging into his pocket, he flipped open the cigarette box and placed one between his lips. "It's still a go. We can't let this halt us. All we know is that Grindelwald knows we've seen his collection. If anything he's probably following us."

He waved a hand around the tavern, "he probably has men in here right this moment."

The group stiffened. 

"Nonetheless, I think it'll be a tad difficult for his men to get inside the Ministry, let alone the department of mysteries. But that doesn't mean it's impossible, we need to be more cautious. Unless one of you would like to attend another funeral."

Delilah kicked him underneath the table due to his poor timing and he hissed slightly, causing him to bite into his cigarette a bit more than he intended. Since there was no filter, the raw taste of tobacco greeted his tongue and a shiver went through him.

"You don't think he has men on the inside?" Aleksander asked as Olive rested her head on his shoulder. The more Delilah looked, she realized how exhausted everyone seemed. Circles rested heavy underneath everyone eyes, slumped in seats, food untouched.

"It's a high possibility that we can't ignore, but we also can't dwell on it. That's why we talk to no one, keep your eyes front and chin up. Look like you're supposed to be there."

Finally Delilah asked the question everyone was thinking, "what about Cain?"

"Avery is coming along."

"You sound sure," Abraxas mumbled, picking at his plate slightly before begrudgingly forcing himself to take a bite. His taste buds revolted against the beef stew, but he forced himself to chew.

"I am sure," Tom reached over and snatched the bottle from Pyrrhus before pouring himself a glass. "He needs to keep himself busy, he needs to feel like he's doing something. He'll be restless for awhile and this job is a good outlet."

"You think Lolita will agree with that?" Delilah knew he had somewhat of a point, but she couldn't help but feel like Tom was using him. No that was stupid, of course he's using him.

"I'm afraid she doesn't really have a say, what Avery decides to do is his choice. What jurisdiction does she have?"

"They're partners, Tom."

"And?"

"That's how relationships work."

Tom read the disbelief on her features and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve all the tension he felt but it was fruitless. Downing the glass of alcohol, he nodded to the group before standing up.

______________________________

The next morning Delilah rolled over and felt the empty sheets beside her, unslept in. Sitting up, the room was vacant and she rubbed at her eyes.

Shrugging on one of Tom's shirts over her nightie, she walked to the dingy window and pulled back the curtain to get some sense of what time it was. It was slightly difficult considering rain was pounding against the cobblestone streets below, and the sky was covered in dark, thundering clouds. Shop lights in Diagon Alley were on, though, so it must’ve been around seven in the morning at the very least.

Turning around, a note stuck to the vanity mirror above the dresser caught her eye and she leaned forward to read it. The scrawl was slanted and elegant, indicating it was Tom who wrote it.

"Visiting a few shops, I'll be back by lunch," she muttered. Agitation rose in her chest unprecedented and she crumbled the note, tossing it into the bin before collapsing back into the rickety bed. She wondered if she jumped hard enough would she fall through the floor or shoot through the ceiling.

"Why am I such an idiot?" She called out to no one but the air. Eventually the molded ceiling got a bit old and she rolled over, burying her head in the sheets before letting out an agitated scream. 

Restlessness, that's what she was feeling.

She was really leaving in three weeks, and Delilah was terrified at the notion that she no longer wanted to go. All because of a fucking boy who had the worlds smallest emotional range and a group of future death eaters. Delilah was going to see her family again, what was wrong with her? Why wasn't she bouncing with joy?

_Maybe because they'll hate what you've become._

She pushed the thought away as she buried her face further into the blankets. If she was in their shoes, she'd hate her too. Maybe kill her, even. It's probably what she deserved for her makeshift courting to a future Dark Lord.

Nothing was making sense.

Why did she want to stay? What was the main root of this sudden shift?

Of course she'd miss her new friends... she'd miss him. But that wasn't the fixed point of why she no longer wanted to leave. All she knew was that Tom was the reason.

The scent of him hit her like a train on a track as she took a breath in, she'd forgotten she was wearing his shirt. Her heart rate calmed down and a warmness spread over her, making her head feel fuzzy and a knot in her stomach grow. She could almost see him, feel him even. If she just reached out.

A single word popped into her head that answered all her questions.

Delilah froze for a moment before shooting out of the bed, practically tearing the shirt off her. "No. Nope. No sir, this is not happening. Nuh uh," she rambled and almost fell over as she ran into the bathroom.

Turning the faucet on to the hottest it would go, she grabbed the bottle of liquid soap held underneath the sink and nearly poured the entire thing into the tub. Not thinking twice as she sat in the steaming water, the hot liquid nearly burned her skin but she didn't care. Delilah took a long bath and scrubbed at her skin till it felt raw, trying to get his smell off her but it was fruitless and that word popped into her head again.

Clenching her jaw, she took a cloth and began rubbing at her skin furiously for what felt like the hundredth time when someone knocked.

Looking up startled, Tom was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom with an amused smile on his lips. "What're you doing?"

Delilah became painfully aware that she was sat in the tub, the only coverage provided were the bubbles of soap and her cheeks flushed red. "Honestly, fuck you."

He raised a brow, not knowing where her sudden hostility had come from. However, the flush to her cheeks proved she wasn't all that angry and he slowly began to walk towards her. Self consciously, Delilah lowered herself further into the water and pressed her back against the tub, a weak effort to hide her hideous scars.

Leaning over, he plucked the rag from her clenched hand and sat down on the rim of the brass tub. "Were you hit with a jinx or something?"

Her brows furrowed, "no, why?"

He took hold of her arm and brought it out of the water. "Your skin is red, and I don't think that's because the bath water is hot or because your flustered."

She blushed and he tilted his head to the side, "well, for the most part." Rolling her eyes, she flicked some water at him. "You're not the first boy to see me naked, you dick." She blew a breath out of her nose and felt like throwing him out a window. Why was he just sitting there, looking at her. She felt like his gaze alone was enough to make the water boil.

Whatever trance he seemed to be in, he snapped out of it and made a come hither motion with his finger. When she raised a brow, he blew out a slow breath and took hold of her hands, pulling her forward slightly. The water rippled around Delilah and she tried to calm down her breathing.

Tom rolled the sleeves of his button down up to his elbows and wet the cloth. "What are you doing?" She asked slowly, the room suddenly feeling too hot. He didn't answer her, instead he raised a hand and ran the cloth along her collar bone but came to stop at the chain of her necklace. Eyeing the piece of jewelry for a moment, he trailed a finger along the silver and paused as he reached the Rosier family insignia.

"He still loves you."

Closing her eyes, Delilah pulled up her knees and rested her chin on top, "I know."

They're quiet for a minute or so, neither sure if they wanted to be having this conversation.

"Why?"

She snapped her eyes open and looked at him, "what do you mean?"

"Why? Why are you with me?"

Something in her chest stuttered when he said 'we' and that blasted word pushed forward in her head, but she shoved it away. When he realized she wasn't going to answer him he stood up. Panicking, before she could think, she reached out a hand and took hold of his arm.

"I don't know," Delilah felt like she couldn't breathe as she choked out the words. Clearing her throat, she slid her hand down and twined her fingers with his. "I don't know. But it's right, I know it is."

His coffee dark eyes nearly turned black due to the dim lighting. Or perhaps that was just her overactive imagination.

Delilah yelped when he took a step forward and gave her hand a sharp tug, bringing her up to her feet. The harshness of the movement caused water to slosh up and over the sides, splattering on the floor but neither paid it any mind.

Her eyes were wider than the moon in that moment. She was completely naked, completely pressed against him, the water undoubtedly soaking his clothes. He didn't appear to care.

The world seemed to move so slow as he placed his other hand on her bare back. Delilah's breath hitched at the skin to skin contact and began to move away but Tom pulled her closer. No one had touched her back in the longest time, she never allowed them to. But there was something almost delicate with the way he was touching her.

Not as if he was worried she would break, but because he knew what he was holding was priceless.

He ran his fingers along her spine and she shut her eyes, waiting for the moment he would pull back in disgust. Sure, he's felt her scars through a layer of fabric, but this was different.

Her flesh was ruined.

It was stretched, compacted, and uneven. The ridges of one deep scar would clash with another at an awkward angle. Almost as if her back was a shattered piece of glass someone had tried to shove back together again.

Tom leaned away and her heart didn't have time to drop as he slowly turned her around. Before she could ask, she felt the press of lips in the space between her shoulder blades.

Delilah felt her knees go weak at the feeling of his hot breath on her wet skin, her mouth suddenly feeling dry when he wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, his breath making goosebumps appear all over her skin.

In that moment they didn't have to say anything, they came to the understanding that they didn't need to.

She leaned into him, feeling the most secure and most wanted she's ever experienced in what was probably years. 

Yes, she knew why she wanted to stay.

__________________________________

An hour later Tom sat at his desk and pushed back his damp curls for what felt like the hundredth time. His back was also a bit sore due to the tub being a bit small, but other than that he wasn't complaining.

Delilah laid on her stomach in the bed, her own wet hair in a messy knot as she flipped through a book that contained rare artifacts. Her hope to figure out what that package was had dwindled severely, but she still felt the need to look.

Sighing in boredom, she rested her chin in her palm. "Where'd you go today?"

"Shopping." He said flatly and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I got that much from the note. I don't see any shopping bags, though."

"I didn't buy anything."

"So you weren't shopping."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and he peered at her over his shoulder, "If you must know, I was doing more research."

"On what?"

Merlin, she's curious little thing. Turning in his chair, he waved a hand at all the books and scrolls. "The Ministry, what they might possibly have in the Department, who might work there."

"Who might be spies for Grindelwald, you mean?"

He nodded and went back to reading. He also tried to do some digging on the Deathly Hallows but came up short, seeing as almost every living being just believed the story of the Three Brothers to be a fairy tale.

He tried to rack his brain as he tugged at his hair, willing himself to think.

The wand was currently in Grindelwald's possession, he knew that much. The stone had been missing for centuries. And the cloak-

He sat up straight.

Tom's mind went back to the day he read Delilah's mind, some boy she was friends with had an invisibility cloak. He never thought anything of it, seeing as one can buy a cloak similar to that anywhere. But the memory of Delilah being tortured by that Bellatrix woman suddenly shot forward in clear resolution. She had said a name so venomously, filled with such disdain. That name was the whole reason Delilah was being tortured in the first place, for information concerning said person.

Slowly, Tom turned and stared eerily at Delilah.

Sensing his gaze, she looked up and suddenly felt oddly cold, like the blood was draining out of her. "What?"

There was a creepily long pause, as if he didn't hear her at first.

"Who's Harry Potter?"

Her vision went black for a moment as fear tore through her, other than that, she didn't allow herself to react. "A friend, why?"

Tom wasn't in the mood to dance around the subject, he felt excitement bubbling in his nerves, he could feel it all the way in his fingers. "Does he posses one of the hallows?"

Her brows furrowed at the absurd thought, Harry owning one the Deathly Hallows? It didn't seem possible nor plausible. "Not that I'm aware of," she said half heartedly and Tom sighed through his nose. Part of him hoped Delilah was lying, however the confusion on her face was evident.

Nonetheless, he pushed on. "Think, would it make sense for him to possess the invisibility cloak?" Delilah tilted her head as she looked at him, she couldn't help but feel he was reaching a bit. "No, I'm pretty sure he would know if he owned something so ancient."

"Perhaps he didn't tell you."

Although it was reasonable, the thought still unsettled her. "Why exactly do you think he has the cloak?"

He leaned back in his chair slightly, not knowing whether bringing up their little incident in the woods would make her angry. Regardless, he _needed_ to know. "When I saw some of your memories, there was a boy with an invisibility cloak." As expected, she stiffened slightly, but didn't lash out. "And then in the cave, that woman was doing that to you to get information on Harry Potter."

A pressure was building in her head and her back itched all the sudden. Delilah rolled her shoulders and looked down as she fumbled with her hands. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He could see her walls go up and he knew he was on to something. Tom knew for her sake he should just drop it, but once he started down the path to solving a puzzle, it was hard to step back. "Why on earth would Grindelwald order one of his followers to torture you for information on a teenager? So, he obviously wanted to find him. Perhaps this Potter had something he wanted?"

Stress dropped on her like a ton of bricks and Delilah fell back onto the bed, her arms crossed over her eyes. Tom sounded so sure, but she knew the truth; Bellatrix sure as hell didn't work of Grindelwald. However, Delilah knew she had to play along.

"That doesn't make any sense. How would he even know Harry had the cloak?"

Tom steepled his fingers beneath his chin as his elbows rested on his knees, eyes clouded over as he dove into thought. For a moment he just sat there, silent. One wouldn't even think he was breathing. Then within the blink of an eye, he shot up and started to dig through one of his bags.

Lazily rolling her head to the side, she watched him and tried to keep the panic threatening to arise at bay. The whole notion was insane. Harry couldn't have the invisibility cloak, he just couldn't.

A sound cane from the back of his throat as he found the book he wanted. Tom paced back and forth in front of the foot of the bed, flipping through what looked like a list of endless names.

"The invisibility cloak is passed down between father and son, correct? So it stays strictly within family?”

Delilah nodded, but he didn't look up.

"And the three brothers were of the Peverell family?"

Slowly sitting up, Delilah pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling her own anticipation of what he was going to say next strike a beat inside her. Tom's excitement was evident, he was on the breach of discovery.

Placing the book down on the bed, Delilah leaned forward and saw it was a record of names belonging to numerous different families. Mostof which were the Sacred Twenty Eight. Tom flipped to the ‘P’ section and ran a finger down the list, muttering names as he went.

"Here!" he sharply rapped on the book making Delilah flinch, a manic smile on his face. "Ignotus Peverell was the brother who asked for the cloak, and he passed it down to his son, who eventually was only able to conceive a daughter; Iolanthe Peverell. And who did she marry?" He turned the book around and pointed to a name.

Hardwin Potter. 

The blood fell from Delilah's cheeks and she suddenly felt light headed. She did not just inadvertently deepen his obsession with immortality. However she also couldn't ignore the shock she felt. Harry did own one of the Deathly Hallows. True, his father didn't directly give it to him, Dumbledore did. But it was at the request of James. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to fix this.

"You're wrong."

He laughed slightly, looking her up and down for a moment, "I beg your pardon?"

Reaching for the book, Delilah noticed her hands were shaking and she mentally cursed herself. "Look, there's no Harry Potter listed under the family."

He appeared as if he wanted to throttle her over the head with the book itself. "This isn't an updated copy, Delilah."

Or perhaps Harry wasn't listed because he hadn't been born yet.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she didn't know how she was going to lean him away from his perfectly sound assumption that Harry had the cloak. Tom was right, which Delilah hated to admit, making this all the more difficult.

"Potter is a fairly common name-"

"Why are you so against this?"

Finally looking him in the eye, he almost seemed desperate for her to agree with him, to share his excitement that he'd figured it out. Part of her wanted to, just to put him at ease but she knew she couldn't.

"Assume you are right, Harry has the cloak. What then?"

Tom stood up, gesturing around the room for no reason other than he couldn't seem to keep still. "We go find him."

"And then? What, you just take it from him? He won't give it up so easily.”

"You can explain it to him."

"Explain _what_?"

"I don't know," he ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the roots in frustration. How was he supposed to describe the almost animalistic hunger he was feeling? Tom wanted, needed, the invisibility cloak. Having it in his possession would place him one step closer to becoming Master of Death.

"I don't even know where he is," Delilah muttered as she picked at a stray feather sticking out of a pillow a bit too harshly, causing the nail of her index finger to cut into her thumb.

"Owl him.”

"I can't."

"Why not?"

Her groan was nearly a scream of agitation as she threw herself off the bed, feeling restless herself. "Even if I could owl him, I wouldn't. The cloak doesn't belong to you and you shouldn't have it."

He was silent for a moment, trying to calm his breathing but Delilah could see how steep his chest was rising and falling.

"Is that why Grindelwald came after us? Because he knew you were there?"

She looked at him aghast, not liking the underlying blame of Rosie's death being shoved on her. "What? No, of course not. I had nothing to do with that."

"Really?" He tilted his head to the side, the gears in his head turning so loudly even almost she could hear it.

"How'd you get away from Bellatrix, escaping perhaps? Seems the most likely, maybe it was Harry Potter who saved you. A war lord doesn't just let one walk away because they didn't have the information. He wouldn't let you go so easily."

Delilah shook her head, everything in the room and outside suddenly became too vibrant and loud, giving her a headache. Merlin, how she wanted to just scream it; the truth. Tell him so he'd stop all these wild accusations that were making her head spin.

“Maybe Grindelwald couldn’t keep an eye on Potter, then again if the boy was smart he’d go into hiding, he has a dark lord after him. So what would Grindelwald do next? Keep tabs on those this boy is close to, falling on you.”

“Tom, stop. Please-“

“It makes sense. Grindelwald knows your close with Potter, so at any given chance, he’d need a way to lure you in. Why else would the house attract you, and no one else?”

“That’s not at all what happened.”

“Then what did happen? What are you not telling me?”

Pressing her lips together, Delilah crossed her arms and just stood there for a moment, contemplating her words, analyzing her thoughts. She honestly hadn’t the faintest clue what to do next. What was she supposed to tell him? If she lied, he’d know right away. Delilah didn’t even think she could handle giving another falsity.

So, she did the next thing that came to mind.

Turning on her heel, the image of the small room began to warp away from her as she apparated, the person who she wanted to see clear in her mind; Dumbledore.

However, before she could make a clean get away, Tom’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of her arm, taking him along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed!! Seeing feedback and how people felt always puts me in a good mood and helps with inspo!!


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

Rough stone dug into his knees as he landed harshly on the ground. The wind had been knocked out of him and it took a moment to register his surroundings. They had landed in Hogsmeade by the looks of it, seeing as no one could apparate on Hogwarts grounds.

Standing up, Tom swayed on his feet and had to latch onto a post dug into the ground to catch his balance. His anger at Delilah attempting to leave him there didn't have time to simmer in his veins when he heard her scream. Whirling around, she laid on the ground a few feet away, her whole body jerking spasmodically. Running over, the sight of crimson was the first thing to grace his vision.

Delilah had gotten splinched on her left leg, chunks of her skin missing in an odd, swirling pattern. And it _itched_. She made to grab at her leg, a weak attempt to alleviate the pain somehow but Tom quickly tore her hands away.

He didn’t have anything on his to heal the wound properly and he cursed under his breath before scrambling to dig his wand out from his back pocket. Tom quickly began to try to stop the bleeding, but there was so much it was hard to tell if anything was happening. 

Delilah let out another sound of affliction when a door was suddenly thrown open behind them. “Oi, keep it down will you?” Tom didn’t pay the person any kind, his attention solely on Delilah. However when she looked up, it was an old man with a white wiry beard, and his eyes seemed to twinkle slightly.

She was sweating, but seeing him brought the slightest bit of comfort. She knew exactly who that was. It was Dumbledore, just not the one she was looking for. 

The man began to walk away but Delilah blurted out the words before she could think properly, "you’re Aberforth Dumbledore.”

He paused and took a second before turning around, blinking at her. Tom finally snapped out of it slightly and looked up, he did look awfully similar to Dumbledore. Though he never knew he had a brother. Aberforth tugged at his beard slightly as he observed the mess in front of him before begrudgingly muttering for them to come inside.

Tom placed his wand between his teeth before carefully maneuvering Delilah into a sitting position. For the most part he stopped the bleeding, but her skin was still a ghastly red and her torn flesh practically screamed in agitation. Throwing an arm over his shoulder, Tom slowly stood up and helped her walk inside the Hogs Head Inn.

Aberforth weaves between the empty tables, taking them to a back room just Incase someone decided to walk in. Not that he was expecting any business that day.

Delilah slumped in a wooden chair, her arm slipping off his shoulders too soon and she hissed in pain through her clenched teeth. “Do you have any dittany?” Tom asked as he kneeled down in front of her, the trim of her dress was soaked with blood and he pushed it up her leg to avoid it sticking to the wound.

Aberforth made a sound from the back of his throat and a few seconds later he handed a bottle to Tom. He uncorked the bottle and looked up at her, “this is going to sting.” She nodded her head, trying to calm her breathing. “I’ll be fine.”

“A lot.” 

“Just pour the fucking potion-“ her sentence was cut off as a scream as he poured droplets onto her leg. On instinct she kicked out and Tom grunted as her knee hit him under his ribs, but nonetheless he held her leg down. Greenish smoke billowed upward as the healing herb did its job. Tom watched curiously as the wound started to close, new muscle and skin growing and stretching over the opened flesh.

The wound now looked several days old; though it still burned slightly.

Looking down she frowned at the new scars that took over most of her thigh, ones she knew magic couldn't remove.

"You handled that better than one would expect," Aberforth motioned to her leg before offering her a tankard. Tom and Delilah has forgotten he was even in the room.

"Butterbeer?" she asked, taking the drink almost greedily.

He raised a brow, "no, child. Whiskey."

"Good," she downed it and felt the alcohol bite at her taste buds, it was bitter but she welcomed it. Tom grew awfully quiet as he stood and walked away towards the empty fireplace. His eyes were trained on a painting of a young girl, questions on repeat in his head, nearly making him dizzy.

Why did she try to leave him? Why did she come here? Was she looking for Dumbledore? How'd she know he had a brother?

He looked out of it, and Delilah wanted to reach out but thought best against it. If she were in his shoes, she’d undoubtedly be pissed.

"How do you know who I am?" Aberforth spoke after a minute, settling himself down in a chair. He looked so much like his brother, though older yet he lacked the feeling of being ancient that Albus possessed. Either way, Delilah knew she could tell him the the truth, he may even be able to give her some insight on her predicament.

But the sudden sensation of Tom's eyes on her made her close her mouth, pressing her lips into a line. Taking another drink, she turned her attention towards the painting as well before an idea popped in her head. "Your brother told me about you."

Aberforth scoffed slightly, "I highly doubt that, Albus likes to act as if I don't even exist."

"That's not true."

"What would you know, girl-"

"I know about Ariana."

Aberforth went still, eyeing her for a long moment before glancing at the portrait of his little sister he had lost so long ago. The more he observed between the portrait and Delilah, he couldn’t ignore their slight resemblance. Slowly he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the old wooden table. "Why would he tell you?"

Dumbledore technically didn't, but Aberforth needn’t know that. "He told me a lot of things, including the situation with Grindelwald. But he wasn't exactly clear," Delilah spared a glance at Tom, hoping she could find a way to fix this. Perhaps Aberforth could provide an explanation to ease Tom's suspicions, to reassure him there was no way in hell Grindelwald even knows her or would specifically be after them.

He sighed after a moment, his eyes glazing over, his mind elsewhere, “brother was a fool." 

A heavy silence blanketed over the room, and Delilah found herself almost desperate to light a fire despite it being in the middle of summer. Finally however, Aberforth cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, tugging at his beard again.

“She was the youngest of the Dumbledore children, also the only daughter. Our mother was delighted to have another female in the house. Though at the age of six, a group of muggle boys saw her practicing magic. Just small stuff, such as making flowers bloom within seconds or making a twig spin in the air. Nonetheless, it traumatized her, what they did. She was never right again. She wouldn't use magic, but she couldn't get rid of it; it turned inward and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn't control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet and scared and harmless.”

Tom tilted his head to the side at the description, that sounded oddly similar to what an obscurus.

“Later on, when she was around fourteen, there was an incident. Ariana had accidentally caused an explosion that killed our mother. Thus bestowing role of the guardian to the eldest, Albus. A role which he resented. Shortly after he returned home, Grindelwald was also in the Hollow to visit his aunt. Lo and behind, the two hit it off. Similar ambitions, both intelligent beyond good measure. And he neglected our dear sister.”

The disgust in his voice as he talked about his brother was evident. Delilah has only known the basics of Ariana’s tale, and whether Aberforth’s telling was influenced by his anger was true, it was still heartbreaking.

“They has made big plans to pursue their dreams, claiming that overruling muggles was for the greater good, and of course I confronted them. Ariana was in no state to be dragged along. Grindelwald became furious, insisting that once they subdued the Muggles, there would be no need for Ariana to be hidden.” A weight suddenly dropped on the man’s shoulders and he rubbed at his eyes as the painful memory shot forward. “A three-way duel broke out between us, Albus, Grindelwald, and I. Ariana, was still unable to control her magic, bless her she tried to stop it, and was inadvertently killed; Dumbledore’s spell if the one that did it.”

Venom was dripping off his tongue, but his expression softened slightly as he looked up at Ariana’s painting.

Delilah bit at her cheek as she soaked in the telling. She knew that it was never known which of the three wizards was directly responsible for her death, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

Tom himself had leaned forward in interest, he never pegged Dumbledore to have so much... depth. The man seemed so self-contained yet he fell into the likes of a future Dark Lord, and he may have inadvertently killed his sister. His eyes then drifted to Delilah, from her golden hair down to her newly injured leg. She had so many marks now, so many scars inflicted due to other people's actions.

"Of course, it’s slightly shocking how Grindelwald hasn't already won yet." 

Delilah raised a brow, running a nail absentmindedly along a dent in the wooden table. "What do you mean?"

"Grindelwald is extremely well versed in divination, he may even be a seer"

Her whole body went rigid, one would assume she was a statue left out in the snow.

"How?" Tom spoke for the first time since they landed in Hogsmeade, but Delilah barely registered his voice. Her breathing was so shallow to the point it felt suffocating.

If Grindelwald was a seer, did he know who she was?

"It's believed he used something to push along his abilities, though nothing of the usual sort. No tea leaves, no crystal ball. Rumor has it it's a skull, light weight and fragile, and able to portray visions for all to see."

Tom felt his pulse spike, that description matched the one he read about in that artifacts book he had. The object he needed, the object that would help him win. “Does he still have it?" The eagerness in his voice was almost evident.

Aberforth chuckled, "probably not, most likely why he's out in hiding now. Said rumor believed it was lost during one of the battles, now hidden away somewhere in the Ministry."

"The Department of Mysteries," Tom and Delilah said in unison. 

He looked excited, but one glance at her made his features fall. "Delilah."

She blinked a few times, her vision had gone foggy and she turned to him, "what?" She followed where his eyes had moved and became acutely aware of something warm on her skin. Furrowing her brow, she reached up a hand and touched the space below her nose.

Pulling it away, crimson coated her fingertips. Oh Merlin’s beard, not again.

"I'm fine."

She sniffed, but her nose continued to bleed despite her trying to clear it with her wand. An itch then clawed up her throat, Delilah tried her best to ignore it but the feeling became incessant as her eyes started to water. Finally a cough broke through and a series of more violent ones followed, pulling away her arm she saw speckles of red.

She started to choke and Tom was out of his seat and at her side within mere seconds, a cautious hand on her back as he too tried to stop her coughing fit and bleeding. Delilah began to stand up, and before Tom cold protest her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed.

__________________________________

When she came to, her body laid heavily on a rickety bed, the springs digging into her back uncomfortably. The room was wall and the ceiling hung low with cracked and aged wooden boards. Alcohol was still apparent in the air, so she could only assume they were still at the Inn.

Aberforth was across the room mixing what appeared to be herbs in a cauldron while Tom was stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at her both in concern, confusion, and fascination. Before she could open her mouth, Tom raised a hand silencing her. Slowly and reluctantly she pressed her lips into a line.

It took him a moment to get his wits about him, though what was confusing him was lost on her. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your... peculiar condition."

Delilah raised a brow and clicked her tongue for a second as she tried to put whatever puzzle pieces he was throwing at her together. She came up fruitless, "what condition?"

"How long have you had it? Answer me that at least."

"I could if you would tell me what the hell you're talking about."

"You really don't know?"

She shrugged her shoulders and Tom nearly wanted to smile at how childlike she was in that moment. Alas, he settled for taking in a slow breath, debating on how he could properly tell her. When Aberforth explained it to him, her condition was relatively confusing and it took a moment for both men to wrap their heads around it. Even then, Aberforth wasn't entirely sure what caused it, or how it was even possible.

"It appears, somehow, that your psychical processes have been time looped." He said it slowly, gauging her reaction. Delilah merely blinked at him, not having the slightest clue what he meant. Though when he said 'time' she stiffened. Her bewilderment clouded her features, though. "Meaning?"

He scratched the back of his neck, "your body clock is frozen. But there's something wrong, besides the obvious of course." He walked around and sat on the edge of the bed. The smell of cigarettes hit her harder than it usually did and she crinkled her nose.

"Putting something in a stasis isn't new, it's usually done to preserve a body. You however, to be quite honest it's fascinating, I didn't think managing keeping someone cognitively and physically functioning would even be possible-"

"Tom," she poked his arm slightly, urging him to get to the point. Though she had to admit, him rambling because he was excited was endearing.

"You're frozen, in a sense, but also not at the same time. They're butting heads. Some force is keeping your brain activity going. And though your heart is pumping, it's being strained so severely that blood flow is minimum. Thus, is why you're cold all the time, you almost have no circulation. Yet," he wrapped his hand around her wrist and squeezed slightly. "There's a pulse."

Lifting her hand, he placed a chaste kiss above her scar and she looked towards Aberforth shyly. "And there's a blush, which means blood is moving." Delilah tugged her hand out of his hold and shifted on the mattress slightly. "So... what does that all mean?"

"Well it's obvious someone did this to you."

"What do you mean someone did this?" Panic gripped at her nerves and she sat up, looking between Aberforth and Tom. The old man sighed through his nose slightly as he peered at her over his glasses. "There's magic coursing through you. It's very intricate and sophisticated, seeing as you appear to be normal and for the most part it’s undetectable."

Delilah sat for a moment, utter disbelief had fallen on her shoulders, she couldn’t think of anyone who would do such a thing. "Well, can you undo it?"

"We can," Tom said carefully, picking at a loose thread of a blanket before standing up to go over to the window. "But we won't."

Her brows furrowed and she scoffed, "and why's that?" As she watched his jaw clench, she realized she wouldn’t be getting an answer out of him. "Why not?" She forced her question at Aberforth, agitation building up inside of her, about to topple. 

He looked between Tom and Delilah for a moment before shaking his head. "whatever magic is running through you, very well may be keeping you alive. If we remove it, there's a high possibly you could drop dead within seconds. Whoever did this, whether it was malevolent intent or not, did this to prolong your life by... well, by freezing it. Though clearly something isn't quite right, Riddle here tells me this isn't the first time you started to profusely bleed out."

She shook her head slightly, trying to wrap her mind around it all. Looking down at her hands, she stretched her fingers and observed how her bones moved. Assuring herself she was alive and actually there, this wasn’t some messed up dream. The stark blueness of her veins seemed to jump out through her pale skin the longer she looked. No, she was fine. She had to be. Her mind was working just fine, she was functioning. She could move, think, talk, eat.

Time travel couldn't be responsible for this, loads of people have time traveled and she's never read an instance where this was the consequence.

"But what if I'm fine? What if you remove whatever curse, hex, whatever the hell it is- What if you remove it and I'm fine? Perhaps this was an accident?"

Tom's dry laugh made her turn her head. He was still staring out the window and only then did she realize it was dark out. "It wasn't an accident, it couldn't be." 

"Even then, why not at least try?”

"Leave us," Tom's voice cut through the air, directly aimed at Aberforth and he raised a brow. Delilah sucked in a slight breath and squeezed her eyes shut, she was starting to get a headache. Looking over at Aberforth, she mustered up a light smile, "he meant please." The man scoffed but shuffled out of the room nonetheless. As soon as the door shut, Tom waved his hand, undoubtedly putting a silencing charm on the room.

"Why on earth would you risk your life so carelessly like that? That's quite imprudent if you." His voice had raised a bit more than usual as he started to pace in front of the bed, his eyes looking everywhere but at her.

Following his movements made her a tad dizzy so instead she focused her attention on the blanket covering her. "I'm not risking anything, I'm sure I would remember if I was on the verge of death."

The words tasted sour in Delilah’s mouth as realization dawned on her. The last memory she had before she got thrown into the 1940s was being tortured by Voldemort. Of course she couldn't tell Tom that. Either way, it didn't make sense. For one, she was almost positive Voldemort wouldn't want to keep her alive. Unless it was just because he wanted to prolong her suffering.

"Delilah, one's body isn't just put into a stasis if they're perfectly healthy. The probability of something going wrong is much too high for you to even consider undoing it."

"But what if I'm fine, I'm sure if there was something wrong with me it'd show up on any of your tests."

"No. I'm not doing that, I can't, you might... I _can't_." He slumped in a chair across the room, his hands on his knees as his palms pressed against his eyes. He couldn't even begin to fathom the possibility of her dying, especially if he was the one to cause it.

“How could you even ask that of me?"

He'd gone quieter, his voice considerably soft and she felt her frustration at him drain away. Twirling her necklace, she tugged at the chain slightly, simply just to feel the tension of it against her neck. "I didn't think it would bother you that much, to be quite honest." 

He lifted his head, an expression of incredulity on his face. "Do you really believe I care for you so little?" 

Delilah bit at her cheek. One minute he could make her feel like the most special person on earth while the next he acted as if he despised her existence. For once, she told him the truth.

"I don't know."

Getting out of bed took more effort than she was ready for, but she pushed on nonetheless. Tom watched as she crossed the room warily, she stumbled slightly but caught her balance as she reached the desk. He tilted his head, looking up at her, deciphering what her next move might be. Or perhaps she didn't have one at all. 

Carefully, as if she wasn't sure of herself, Delilah stepped closer and rested her hands on his shoulders. A slight sigh of what must've been relief passed her lips as Tom’s arms wrapped around her and he pared the distance between them. He rested his face just below her breast, the rise and fall of her ribs calming him slightly. Delilah took to running her fingers through his hair lightly. "I want to make this work, but we need to tell each other things. Or else there's too much room for doubt to creep in."

He was silent for awhile, though they didn't budge from their position. For the time being, he took in the way her nails felt against his scalp and when she occasionally ran a hand over his back, the chills that erupted on his skin were unwarranted.

“You're asking me to promise something that's not in my power,” the soft rumbling baritone of his voice danced around her, nearly maki g her ears ring with the suddenness of it.

"What do you mean?"

He shifted his hold and looked up at her, watching how her chest rose and fell slightly in a steady pattern. He didn't know how to explain himself, well he did, he just feared she might get angered at his reasoning.

Tom could promise actions and words, all to demonstrate affection. Though they would be sparse and out of the public's eye. But he couldn't promise her what she wanted, what she may be subconsciously asking of him. Feelings are involuntary, and promising them to someone is brash and in his opinion; reckless.

Though when it came to her, that’s all he ever seemed to be.

Delilah could tell he was struggling with some inner battle and ran her thumb along his cheekbone for a moment before mustering up a soft smile. "If you do care... that's enough."

Coffee brown eyes poured into her crystalline ones, swirling and invading her attention, making her feel as if she was hurtling through space. He stood up slowly, and with the action his arms raised over her. One arm stayed wrapped around her waist while his other hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. When he spoke, she almost didn't hear him.

"We both know that won't be enough."


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

The smell of nicotine greeted her as she woke up the next morning. Delilah attempted to get out of the stiff bed, but her leg was incredibly sore. Rubbing at her eyes, her vision blurred for a moment until she saw Tom standing across the room at a desk. A cigarette hung from his lips as he flipped through a book.

Though when he noticed she was up, he snapped the pages shut and walked over to the foot of the bed. "How's the leg?"

"Sore," she yawned. A few moments of stale silence passed, all the while Delilah watched the ash build up on the end of the cigarette. He kept running his hand through his hair, clearly wanting to say something. Rolling her eyes, Delilah sat up straight and threw a small pillow at him lightly. "Spit it out."

"Why did we end up here? You know we can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds."

Closing her eyes, Delilah wasn't in the mood to have this conversation. She couldn't very well tell him the truth, despite how much strain not doing so was causing. "I know that."

"Then why are we here?" He had a few theories, most notably two. The first was she retreated to the one place she knew well enough, and safe at, which was Hogwarts. She had no where else to go at the moment, and the castle was her first option. He wasn't so different, Hogwarts was his home, or at least the closest thing to it. However, why would she go through the trouble to apparate away from him? Why not just leave the room? 

His second theory made a fire burn within him; she had left him to see Dumbledore. Tom knew Delilah and the old man were close, but the notion that she was so quick to depart from him to see the man he despised threatened to make him furious.

Tom watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, contemplating how she would answer- or if she would answer at all and he bit the inside of his cheek. Letting out a long breath, Tom walked away to stub out the cigarette and rubbed the back of his neck. "Seeing as I won't get a response out of you concerning this, what about Harry Potter, hm?"

Her head snapped up and she looked at him, disbelief at how he was still latching onto this subject, "really?"

A scoff departed from his mouth as he gestured to her, "just because your leg got mangled doesn't mean I forgot. You have yet to give me a proper answer. What are you not telling me?"

"Tom honestly, drop it."

"Why?"

"Please."

He pulled back quickly from the desk, his hands tugging at his hair by the roots. Delilah frowned as she saw his jaw strain, he appeared to be shaking with anger. Her brows furrowed as she watched him, he was pacing but his movements were jerky and erratic, like he was trying to control himself.

"For Merlin's sake, why does it matter?"

"Fucking hell, Delilah-" his shout was punctuated with sound of his fist slamming into the wall. "Because if he has one of the Deathly Hallows, I can take it!" 

Delilah hated that she flinched.

"I can pull the cloak right from under Grindelwald's nose, putting me one step ahead of him and death itself." His voice was a thunderous roar, the shock of it making the windows almost shutter in their frames. Or perhaps that was just her imagination, her head was spinning.

"What do you mean, 'death itself,' Tom... you cant be serious?"

His chest was rising and falling heavily, black eyes boring into hers with a strained expression. In the silence, everything seemed to scream. The draft of air, wailing of floorboards, flicker of a flame, a bird outside, the rustle of fabric, even their own breathing.

Delilah felt like tearing at her own skin would provide a better comfort than the atmosphere she was currently being drowned by. She stood from the bed on shaking legs, taking a cautious step forward, but a pain shot through her as Tom leaned away.

He bowed his head, his fists clenched at his sides as he attempted to calm his breathing. She watched him, wary, feeling as if he might snap at her or punch the wall again. 

"You and I," he began after a moment, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "Your body clock is frozen, you don't- you won't wither with age. And if I possess all the Hallows we can have an infinity with one another. Think of it... we'd be gods."

Delilah simply stared at him, not necessarily in disbelief, just, she didn't know. She couldn't comprehend the weight of what he was suggesting.

"Will you help me?" he said.

Blinking away the haziness she felt, Delilah swallowed, trying to wet her dry mouth. She didn't trust her words however. Tom raised his head from its bowed position, his expression was that of young and perplexed pain.

He repeated himself, "will you help me?"

Walking back, Delilah sat herself down on the end of the bed, her eyes staring at the new scars that littered her thigh. "What you're asking of me- it's," she took a deep breath before looking up at him.

"Going after such ambitious will tear you apart. Physically and mentally. You'd be turning your back on Mother Nature. That's a death sentence. Why are you so quick to deny me a risk of my life while you saunter towards yours?"

She could see the gears turning behind his eyes, contemplating how he would answer.

Delilah honestly didn't know how this would end, but at the moment there wasn't a hopeful outcome in her sights. She'd watched him grow, so much. Like she said, he was a fighter. Tom had cuts all over him, metaphorically or not, all because he fought too hard.

"You are in over your head, for God's sake don't let your pride and fear blind you." When she was met with no response she let her head fall into her hands. She had watched him go through so much change, the amount equating to a mountain that he was able to move before pounding back into the ground again. And the cycle would repeat.

Delilah had watched him, as well as the rest of the boys... really anyone in her life, fight in the highs of their belief. All to forget their fears and to keep the ones they love safe. However, the obstacle he was willing to challenge was what would lead to his downfall. She couldn't watch that happen, it would break her.

"Will you help me, or not?"

A weight so hefty fell on her then, making her whole body ache. "Tom-"

"Help me or leave."

She gaped at him, "what?"

"Help we retrieve the invisibility cloak, help me with this task, or leave."

A scream of agitation left her then, how desperately she wanted to tell him that Harry hadn't even been born yet, that someone else in their family line probably had the cloak at that moment. But she couldn't. "Why can't you understand that I can't. I can't. I physically can't."

He clicked his tongue, "I don't believe you."

"Are you serious right now?"

He stared at her, the inky blackness of his eyes seeming to melt into an abyss.

"Leave where, hm? Where are you going to head off to? Where do you expect me to go?"

"Home," the word left his mouth before he could think properly. He immediately regretted it, but he wouldn't take it back. Tom kept telling himself it had to be said, this is how things had to be.

She froze. He didn't know what he was saying, he was angry, he didn't mean it. He _couldn't_ mean it. Delilah swallowed, the movement burning her throat, "you're acting like a child."

"Perhaps," Tom rubbed at his cheek for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets, "but I've had enough of the secrecy. Tell me the truth, tell me everything... or leave."

Delilah had always been told there's a moment she'd reach where she had to decide between doing what's right and what's easy. A statement of such weight shouldn't be so vague. If going home was the right thing to do, she'd be leaving him and the stronger self she's created. She couldn't bare to lose him, the thought made her physically sick. But she'd be seeing her family again, and her friends, helping the wizarding world from a terrible fate. She'd be in the time where she rightfully belonged.

Though, staying with him wasn't the easy route, not in the slightest. And in her gut, staying with him felt right. The wholeness she felt at his side was uncanny. But if she was to stay, she'd be leaving all she knew behind, her brother, her friends and Harry.

Either way, it was betrayal.

An ache so profound settled deep within her, rattling her bones with the sheer force of its great weight. The universe was demanding something from her, her happiness, and all Delilah wanted to do was stand up tall and scream no.

She knew she couldn't, life didn't work that way.

Standing up, every step she took towards him felt like she was severing something, and it hurt. There was less than four inches between them as she rested a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.

"I can't," her voice barely above a whisper. His eyes had developed a gloss as realization of what she just said hit him, but no tears were to be shed. 

As he watched her walk towards the door, Tom desperately wanted to reach out, hold onto her, and make it work. They cared for one another, that was true. Tom cared for her in a way he never thought he was capable of.

It wasn't enough.

To go on, he needed her to give him everything. Perhaps in due time, he'd give her all of him in return. He's already given Delilah more of himself than he was comfortable with, but it was necessary. Yet still, it wasn't enough. Nothing ever would be. If he was anyone else, things would be fine. Life would be easier, and he could live a life with her without ailments.

If only he was someone else, if only he was Elio. He could make her happy, give her a life she could actually enjoy. A life that didn't ask anything from her but love and affection. 

Tom couldn't function like that, he needed to know things in order to keep moving forward. He needed to know her yet she retreated, even if it was at the cost of their entire relationship. He offered her the chance to stay, his only request being she told him the truth.

But she walked out the door.

In that moment he hated himself. If reaching his ultimate goal, to overcome death, was won at the price of losing her.

Was it worth it?

Such a question knocked the wind out of him, making him feel dizzy. Alarms went off in his mind as the reality of Delilah actually leaving dawned on him. All his efforts had been to get her to stay, yet Tom had made her go.

He ran out the door.

His feet pounded down the old, decaying wooden steps, towards the end he skipped the last few and landed with a thud before taking off through the pub. There were some early morning customers, but none paid him any mind. Tom caught a spare glance at Aberforth, the old man winked at him with one twinkling eye before downing a tankard. He didn’t have time to dwell on the action as he shot through the door.

Skidding to a halt, Tom turned in a circle, hoping she hadn’t decided to apparate away. Turning to the left, some relief filled him at the sight of Delilah, she was half way down the street.

“Delilah!”

Whirling around, her eyes widened slightly as she realized he was running towards her. She was still cautious, she couldn’t see his face clearly so whether or not he was angry was lost on her. However as he grew closer, his features looked slightly crestfallen. Tom came to a stop in front of her, panting slightly and Delilah cautiously stepped closer. 

He squeezed his eyes shut. If he wanted this, and he did, he'd have to break the heavy chain that kept him tied to his pride.

"At the very least, and I beg you, tell me why you can't tell me."

Biting at her bottom lip, she looked at the clouds above them before looking at him. He’d come after her, that had to amount to something.

She recalled the night they shared on that bridge. The absolute splendor of it. The feeling of belongingness that transpired between them. She recalled the realization she had had only a day prior- of how she truly felt about him, her soon to be fallen angel lest he went on this dark path he so desperately craved to journey down.

"Close your eyes," he looked at her in question, and Delilah mustered up a soft smile, one he was thankful to see."Please." Slowly, he did as told.

Stepping closer, she rested a finger under his chin and tilted his head up, "do you feel that? The light of the sun on your eyelids?" His brows furrowed, but after a moment he nodded. 

"The sun has been here longer than any of us, long before the earth even existed, and it will be there long after everything is gone, it defies time itself, at least the construct of it. It's been witness to so much. Everything that ever happened to us. People we love, people we lost. People we found against all the odds." Dropping her hand, Tom opened his eyes and looked down at her. Entranced. The gleam of the sun appeared to make her hair golden, more so than it already was. Her cheeks were still flushed, he from the warmness of air or their argument that had just transpired.

"This fear you have," Delilah placed a hand on his chest, directly above his heart, letting the beat of it sink into her. "I don't know how else I can say this, but you shouldn't fear death. For it is natural and defines us. You, your body, all the elements were forged over a millennia ago, in the heart of a far away star that exploded and died-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Lifting his hand to rest on top of hers, Tom felt the coolness of her skin but didn’t bother to move it.

Biting her cheek, she too turned to look up at the sun, the blinding light now temporarily blocked by a dark gray cloud. It was going to rain. "That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of space, all over the infinite vastness of it. After so many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars, new planets. And onwards it went, again and again. The elements came together and burst apart, forming clothes and ships and books, and roses and kingdoms. Until eventually, they came together to make you."

Stepping closer, Delilah had to fully tilt her head up to look at him. They seemed to become true in that moment, realization that they were falling through space together grasping at their hearts.

"You, Tom Riddle, are unique in the universe." Lifting her other hand, she cupped the back of his head, rubbing her fingers lightly through his hair. "Don't defy the very divinity that created you, or else nature will turn her back on you, just as well everyone else. That's a sacrifice you shouldn't make."

He looked down at her for a long moment, his senses were currently going off in a frenzy at the feel of her touch. Part of him understood what she was saying, but he had lived his entire life wanting to overcome death. He had devoted everything to the cause, he couldn’t just toss that away so quickly. “What if it's needed?" 

"If you achieve this, immortality, everyone around you will turn to ash. And eventually it will bare to be too much. Even for you. That isn't a sacrifice. That's a waste." 

The conflicting expression that twisted his features was painful, was he really willing to give up everything? It sounded selfish to her own mind but, was he really willing to give up her? Sighing through her nose, Delilah let her head fall forward and rest against his chest. “You're not running from death, Tom. You're running from life." 

Finally, after such a long time from preventing this, she was ready to give him somewhat of an answer. "I know things," she sniffed slightly, merely just to have her body be doing something. Tom stiffened, nearly unsure if he was ready.

In all honestly, he didn’t know what to expect. 

"Back home, people live in terror of a man, of his judgement and of his wrath." She took Tom's hands in hers and walked over to a bakery that still had its chairs and tables set up outside. Once they got seated, Tom didn't bother to let go of her hold.

"Some, like the woman you saw, Bellatrix, devoted themselves to him. Gave up everything, including their humanity. And with this following he believes himself to be a god."

Her mouth went dry slightly as his thumb ran over her knuckles.

"But he isn't. He's a parasite eaten by envy, fear, and longing for life eternal. Feeling as if he eradicates them, he's lived one moment longer than someone else. He feeds off this dogma. Off the memory every one of his victims hold; love, loss, birth, death, happiness and sorrow."

She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted but she had to keep going. He had to understand why she was saying all this.

"I thought I had walked away from the war when I came here, but I didn't. I was just thrown into a different battle, one played by completely different rules. I've seen the birth of fear in a new generation that was once filled with hope and youth, yet it was torn away so quickly. Forcing myself and those around me to grow up. I've seen governments topple, and I've marked a list of those I once knew who are dead. All because of him."

 _All because of you_ , the voice in her head sounded so weak and pathetic that she wanted to slap herself. Her inner judgement was wrong, not because of him, but the creature he will become.

However, if she wanted this done right, she had to accept the truth. Delilah turned her gaze to him, forcing herself to solely focus on his face, the one she's so grown to admire. Yet she had to remember, there were no beautiful surfaces without terrible depth.

"I know such terrible things, things that would make you go mad and that would topple your world. I have secrets that I can never divulge. Tom, I have lost so much, to an extent I don't think you're capable of understanding. And the knowledge bestowed on me, even how unwilling I want to have it, it's engraved in my head. Knowledge that would make a man such as the one who tore my life apart burn."

Delilah squeezed his hand, "And the worst part is, I see him in you sometimes and it terrifies me, but mostly it breaks my heart." 

He wanted to reassure her, but even he could admit the similarities she had laid out. That man who everyone feared had everything Tom wanted. A following, a terror imbedded into everyone, a submission. Yet, the way Delilah was looking at him caused a chord to strike deep in his chest, vibrating at such an intensity that his ears rung. Tom didn’t want to be that for her, “I’m not him.” His voice was a rasp and he cleared his throat.

"I know, but if you choose to go down this road of corruption, you will be. And this is the alternative, whether you like it or not; I’ll turn to dust at your feet one day, whether this body clock loop is removed or not, and you’ll wondering where the time went."

Or perhaps he'd be so far gone in his own madness that he'd laugh as he stood over her grave. The likeliness is that happening was too high for comfort. Anger gripped at her then, burning and unwarranted, "is your hatred for the world so goddamn important that it blinds you to everything else?" 

He blinked at her, suddenly exhausted, “you don't understand-"

"What? What don't I understand? Is immortality so important, that you'd leave everything and anyone who even remotely cares about you?"

She stood up, she needed to be moving or else she'd explode. Delilah paced, her shoes scuffing along the cobblestone with more force than necessary. However she never noticed Tom get up, and when she felt his hand on her shoulder she pushed him away. He did nothing to defend himself.

"Immortality isn't living forever, Tom. You lose a part of yourself over time. You lose things, people over time. You'll be the only thing standing when the rest of the world fades. And then what?" She shoved him back again, this time with both arms and he slammed into the wall of the bakery, the old wood groaning in protest at the force. "What will happen when everyone else is dead? You'll have no more people to rule over, to torture, no one to inflict your pain on. What will you do then? Stand over my grave and laugh at the girl who was foolish enough to care so deeply for you?" She continued to hit him in the chest, though her force was weakening and he tried a few times to catch her fist before he was able to stop her. He'd no doubt have a bruise or two, but that was the least of his worries.

Delilah took a deep breath as she looked up at him, she'd lost her temper. Though her frustration was still high so she didn’t think it would do well to dwell on the fact. “I have loved you through everything. Even after I found out who you truly are. And you're willing to throw it away?"

Tom went catatonic instantly, his eyes glazed over as he looked at her, though he didn't seem to register her presence. His breathing went still, his chest barely moving. Delilah was confused with this sudden shift of behavior, only realizing why until after a moment it dawned on her. 

Neither spoke for almost ten minutes, Tom still had a tight grip on her hands, but the feeling of his senses had drained away into a cesspool of numbness. His mouth was dry, and it took all his energy to swallow and lick his lips slightly before speaking.

"You love me?"

His mind was reeling. How was this even possible? How could she? So much wanted to spew from his mouth, pure venom just waiting to drip off his tongue. And it should've, it'd save them both, despite the pain that would ensue. 

He wanted to say love was an illusion, an ideal people try so desperately to grasp. That Delilah wasn't in love with him, she was in love with the idea of him. That he was someone no one could get close to, he shut himself off, he was clever, cunning, and mysterious as so many people have put it. And of course she would be attracted to that, and she was not at fault. But Delilah was not in love with him. She wanted to be, but she couldn't.

There was nothing to love.

Instead, his voice stumbled out words in a whisper that cracked, “you didn't mean to say that. You can take it back."

Delilah's eyes looked terrified, and brighter than he'd ever seen them. His heart started to beat awfully fast as he shook his head, mostly at himself.

“Please take it back."

Saying it out loud felt like a punch to her gut, yet at the same time relief filled her. Delilah had never felt this way towards anyone before, and never in a million years did she think the term would fall to him. But the universe had a funny, cruel, way of doing things. “Tom-"

"You don't love me."

She placed her hands on the sides of his face and tilted his head down, pressing her forehead to his. Delilah knew he must be confused, hell, she was. However in that moment he looked like he had just been petrified. His eyes searched hers for an answer he wasn't sure he wanted, "why?"

Running her thumb along his cheekbone, she bummed in thought for a moment. “To be quite honest, I don't know. I don't know how or when. But I do know I'm willing to give you more of myself than I probably should. And even if you decide to toss me to the side and pursue this wish of yours... I will love you. Though it will kill me."

He gripped at her hands almost to the point where it was painful, "if that is love, why on earth would you want it?”

"Love and reason keep little company together.” She echoed the words Dumbledore had told her all those months ago. Oh how easily she had dismissed them, if only she knew. “However, I have faith in you. Truly, I do. Please, don't go down this path of destruction. And don’t do it for me, I know that’s not incentive enough, so do it to save yourself."

Tom Riddle was frightened. 

She couldn't feel like that about him, she just couldn't. For one, he never believed in the fictitious notion of such an emotion, and he didn't understand it. All it ever did was cause pain and chaos, so why let ones self succumb? Though, he's never heard a story where falling to such a level of admiration was a choice. Nonetheless, he simply couldn't believe Delilah could feel such a way about him, he couldn't. He didn't want her suffering any further by his hand, and that's all this 'loving him' would do.

After all, love was what killed his mother.

“When you leave-“

“Tom-“

“No, listen to me. You’re going to be leaving soon, and though I don’t want you to, I know you will. Because that’s who you are, selfless, and it’s insufferable. What I’m getting at is, for the time being while you’re here with me, sure, I can handle it. I’ll stop this obsession.” Taking her hand away from his face, he placed a chaste kiss on the inside of her palm.

“But the Ministry is less than a month away, after you leave I’m afraid my self control will go with you.”

She closed her eyes, she needed a moment to think. If she did decide to stay, and he kept true to his word and ended this obsession with cheating death, Voldemort would cease to exist. Millions of lives would be saved... Harry would have his parents back.

Would she be risking too much? Delilah would be rewriting the timeline, the second wizarding war would have never happened. What if another dark lord popped up in Voldemort’s place? Not mention all the paradoxes that would ensue. 

She would have never been tortured, never would have been on the run, never would have gone to the Ministry, never would have gotten sent back in time, never would have met Tom. Yet it still happened. So if she did decide to stay, would she fade from existing? 

She’d be rewriting the history of so many lives. Who was she to hold such a power? Her head spun with the weight of the situation, but she forced herself to smile.

“We’ll figure it out, I promise.” 


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

Reality swirled around them as they apprated back to Diagon Alley, their feet landing on the cobblestone streets. They had decided to arrive in a side alley next to the Inn, seeing as the main streets were bustling with shoppers and tourist. Tom had yet to say anything, but Delilah knew he was still struggling to comprehend what had just transpired between them. Looping her arm through his, they stepped out of the alley only to bump into someone.

"Merlin- oh, hello."

Delilah took a second to get hold of her footing, but she knew that voice. The Scottish accent was recognizable, "hello Aurora." She smiled at Abraxas' girlfriend pleasantly and lightly elbowed Tom in the side. He didn't even appear to notice her before he looked down, he wasn't bother to smile at Aurora, however he gave her a mute nod. Delilah looked at him for a moment as she worried at her lip before turning her attention back to the girl.

"Out shopping?" She gestured to the bags hanging off her arms and Aurora beamed at her. "I was in the city so I thought why not," her eyes trailed to Tom and Delilah's twined arms and raised a slight brow. "I've apparently missed something."

"Oh you have no idea," Delilah said through slightly pursed lips, which were formed into a tense smile. Sighing through her nose, she shook her head and tried to get her wits about her. The day wasn't ruined, not yet anyway. Delilah wasn't properly thinking, so the words left her mouth before she could determine if what she was about to suggest was a good idea. "Would you like to have lunch?"

Aurora shrugged slightly, "why not?"

________________________________

"The Leaky Cauldron? Really? I heard their food was rubbish." Aurora crinkled her nose as they walked through the door and Delilah laughed, though it faltered slightly as she saw Tom distancing himself a bit back. She'd need to talk to him later.

"Don't worry, the Inn always has something to surprise you with."

Aurora raised a brow at her smug smile as she led her through the tables. Her confusion quickly warped into shock as she saw a particular set of platinum blonde curls. "Abraxas?"

His head shot up when he heard her voice, his face lighting up when he laid eyes on his beloved. Abraxas didn't spare a moment as he shot out of his seat and picked Aurora up, spinning her around before kissing her. A grin broke out on both their lips during the kiss and he pulled back, "darling, what are you doing here?"

Brushing stray curls away from his eyes, Aurora took a moment to watch how the blush in his cheeks complemented the light color of his eyes and hair. Shaking her head at her infatuation of him, she poked him in the chest lightly. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought you'd still be in France."

Delilah had to admit it was a bit impressive how Abraxas didn't miss a beat as he came up with a quick reply, the lie dripping off his tongue like honey. She didn't know whether to commend him or feel disconcerted at how good he was at doing such a thing. But really, was she any different.

__________________________________

“He’s tired, though that should probably expected,” Lolita whispered as she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning in the doorway. Delilah nodded and caught sight of Cain pacing in the background, picking at a loose thread of his jumper. He was the complete definition of a mess.

“Can I speak with him? If that’s alright.”

Lolita bit at her lip for a moment. Turning to look at her fiancé, she took in the state of him and felt tears prick at her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. “Cain my love, is it alright if Delilah comes in? She wants to speak with you.”

He didn’t seem to register the words for a minute before he gave a nod, rubbing at the growing stubble along his jaw.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” she walked over and placed a chaste kiss to his forehead. Cain closed his eyes at the soft contact and gave another mute nod, watching silently as Lolita left out the door. The old wood closed with a soft click as Delilah walked slowly further into the room, eyeing the messy bed sheets, strewn around clothing, and untouched food trays.

Delilah felt like asking him how he was holding up would be pointless, it was clear he wasn’t doing okay. No one would be.

Leaning against the desk, she watched him pace for a few more minutes before clearing her throat. “Have you been getting any sleep?”

Cain shook his head, staring blankly out the window as the sound of rain pattered against the panes. Delilah twirled her necklace, the cool material comforting her for a brief moment. “Use your words, it may not seem important, but it is. Talking is important.”

Clenching his jaw, he spared her a side glance before turning to the window again. “No, I’ve not been sleeping. How could I?” He sniffed and only then did Delilah take note of how red his eyes were. “Besides,” he began and leaned against the wall, finally looking at her, “much to do considering what’s around the corner.”

“You don’t need to go, it’d be understandable if you didn’t. It’s probably be better actually, if you didn’t. You need time, Cain. You should be with your family.”

He scoffed.

Closing her eyes, she sighed before she corrected herself, “you should be with Lolita.”

Shaking his head, Cain tugged at the roots which had gone a bit greasy due to him not having showered. His appearance looked gaunt, and even though it’d barely been a week he looked as if he lost weight. He wore a jumper that sat crooked in his shoulders and pajama pants that hung low on his hips, the end of the fabric scuffed at each of his heels.

It's quiet for awhile, Delilah giving him breathing room to gather his thoughts to speak, or if he even wanted to speak. Sometimes allowed silence was better.

"She was so excited for Hogwarts... so much so." Cain rubbed at his eyes and sat down at the desk next to where she was leaning against it.

"She'd write me letters every Wednesday and Friday. Her handwriting dripped with enthusiasm that it was hard to read sometimes." He laughed and looked up to ceiling, seeing some memory instead of the cracks.

"I remember her eyes would just- just light up when I talked about the school. She'd sit in my lap and watch the fire, simply listening. Picturing her future years of walking those beautiful halls. Or when she'd come with me for supplies shopping, she'd try on the robes for fun. I'd never seen her so happy."

Tears burned hot in his eyes and he made weak effort to wipe the ones that trailed down his cheeks. The tears nearly hurt and lately he’d get headaches every other hour, he was exhausted. "She hated it at home, couldn't wait to leave. Rosie even planned it all out, stay at school during Christmas holiday and when she could, stay with me over the summer. She was going to be so loved, properly loved, by people who cared for her."

Cain recalled the night Rosie first told him this. Two years ago, it was Christmas Eve and she couldn't sleep. There was a knock on his door and she shuffled in with a stuffed animal tucked beneath her arm. One he’d given her when she was only five years old. It severely needed a good wash but Rosie refused to let it out of her sight.

He told her to go to bed, seeing as he himself was half asleep, but she refused.

She wanted to dance.

He smiled at the memory of dancing around the room with her, Rosie's feet on top of his, the cheerful giggles filling the air that mixed in with the festive music he played over a phonograph.

Cain was pulled from the memory as a sob escaped him, rattling his chest as if a bell had been rung, "I'm sorry."

"Hey," Delilah said softly, her brows furrowed as she crossed the short distance and pulled him into a hug. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she smoothed down his hair and felt his shoulders tremble as he tried to stop crying, but it was fruitless.

Cain gripped at her shirt with clenched hands, his head buried in the crook of her neck. "She's gone, Delilah. Just fucking gone."

She squeezed her eyes shut as a weight fell behind them, giving her a headache.

After awhile, he pulled back and sniffed, his eyes swollen and red, still watering with unshed tears. "You know the worst part... the worst part isn't even the day she died." He ran a shaking hand through his hair before collapsing on the edge of the bed. His form caved in, so unlike his usual strict posture.

"The worst part is all the days that follow. All the days she stays dead."

__________________________________

Aleksander had called a small meeting in his room later on, Pyrrhus being the last to come stumbling through the door. There were imprints on the side of his face, indicating he’d most likely passed out and woke up only minutes prior.

The meeting was about to begin when there was a knock, everyone turned and tried to hide their surprise at seeing Lolita and Cain. The latter of which hadn’t left his room since they arrived.

Aleksander smiled warmly at them, trying to ease the tension in the air everyone felt. Clasping his hands together, he leaned against the bed frame and looked at them all, “okay so we're going to use the visitors entrance and be in the atrium by eight. So we’ll need to leave here no later than a quarter till then. Tom, Delilah, and I will go to the lift while Abraxas distracts the guards, and my brother will meet us at the Department entry to show us where to go. He said getting to the actual holding areas can be a bit tricky due to security measures. The plan is to be in and out as soon as possible. Just take what you need and then we leave, no lingering, no exploring. Despite how tempting it may be.”

Aleksander looked pointedly at Tom, who of which raised a brow.

"What are we doing?"

They all turned and found Aurora standing in the doorway, looking at them expectantly. Abraxas' eyes widened and he hurried up to his feet, "nothing, darling. Just-"

She ignored him and walked further into the room, disbelief shining in her eyes. "You're breaking in and stealing from the Ministry?"

The room was dead silent, none knowing what to quite say. Tom was about to reach for his wand to wipe her memory when Aurora nudged Olive and smiled, “how exciting. Can I come along?”

“No!” The word was spoken in unison by everyone, causing it to bounce around the room in a rather loud echo. Aurora frowned and turned to Abraxas, “why?”

He raised his brows at her, “you do realize what you’re asking to be a part of, don’t you?”

“You do realize what you’re a part of, don’t you? You expect me to just let you walk in there when the consequences could be disastrous? Hell no, Abraxas love, you should know by now that if you’re going to be doing something reckless, I will be right at your side.” She walked over and raised up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek and he flushed, feeling all the eyes on him.

Wrapping an arm around Aurora’s waist, Abraxas looked over to Tom with a questioning brow. “Can she come along?”

He raised one shoulder in a shrug and went back to the book he was holding. No one paid the action much mind but Delilah worried at her lip to the point where it started to bleed. What was wrong with him?

Had her confession really troubled him that much?

__________________________________

Delilah’s hand cramped as she wrote a hurried letter to Dumbledore explaining how the Ministry heist was coming up soon. Dangerously soon. She requested to meet with him as soon as possible and could only hope the owls at the post were quick and reliable enough to deliver her message on time.

She needed advice. Delilah knew he warned her against the possibility of her wanting to stay, quite explicitly the more she thought about it. At the time his words seemed riddled but not so much so as she recalled the meetings. He'd probably tell her to go... nonetheless she needed to meet with him.

Sealing the letter with wax, Delilah heard the door open and she went stiff for a moment before slipping the parchment underneath a book. She wanted to talk with Tom, but she had also been subconsciously putting it off the entire day.

He had been awfully quiet, even by his terms.

Looking over her shoulder, Tom was still by the door. His back pressed against it as he looked at her, his eyes appearing like the blackness of void space.

"What's on your mind?" Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears and bounced around the room.

He bit the inside of his cheek before pushing off the door, shrugging off his blazer as he walked toward the bed. The groan of the mattress sounded too loud as he sat down. He messed with his hands for a moment, a trait unlike him and she bit at her lip before walking over.

"What's wrong?" Delilah brushed a stray curl from his forehead and the coolness of her touch rippled through his nerves. Looking up at her, his dark brown eyes took on an almost gold sheen due to the lighting. They were ever changing; one moment deep space, the next a burning star.

"Will we meet again?"

"What do you mean?"

"Later on in life."

"Stop talking as if I'm already one foot out the door," she cupped his cheeks, embracing the feeling of his skin, embedding it into her memory. She closed her eyes as he pulled her towards him, spreading his legs so she could come to stand between them, closer.

A poem came to mind in that moment, and it pained her. It pained her so deeply she wanted to collapse and never get back up because the debris on top of her was simply too heavy.

_Promise me this_

_If there is more than this one_

_Lifetime_

_And we meet again_

_In another time_

_Another place_

_Let us love each other then_

_The way we should've loved_

_Each other from the start_

_Because I couldn't bare to spend_

_Another lifetime missing a piece of my heart_

The feeling of his fingers running lightly over her back made her shiver. There and now was a moment of peace she knew wouldn't last, it couldn't. They didn't have that luxury. "Tom, I'm just as terrified as you are."

"Terrified of what?" He mumbled into the fabric of her blouse.

Delilah raised one shoulder in a weak shrug, running her fingers through his hair. She had never noticed the different shades until then, some a honey colored brown, others nearly pitch black, mixing together to form a rich saturation of brunette. "Of everything, all that's about to happen. What might not happen. What has happened."

Chills ravished her skin as his hands trailed down and cupped the back of her legs, pulling her closer yet again. Her breath hitched when he tugged forward again, raising one leg at a time to be set on either side of him on the bed, resulting in Delilah straddling him.

Tom felt childish, stupid even, for just wanting to be closer to her. He knew his time was running out which made panic strike like a chord in his chest. Delilah wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Blue and brown searched each other and she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her forehead to his. "What is it?"

"I know you're leaving soon."

"Tom I told you, I don't know that yet-"

"Yes you do."

Her lips pressed together, she knew leaving would be for the best, it was expected of her to go. She’s a girl of time, she’s supposed to be the hero of this story; selfless and willing to give up her happiness for the greater good.

What was she supposed to tell Dumbledore anyway?

_Hey old man, yeah you know how you told me not to fall in love? Well I did exactly that. And guess what? I'm deciding to stay in the past so I can be with said man I fell in love with! Oh, my family and friends back in my own time? I'm sure they'd understand._

Yeah, that would go really fucking well.

"I don't know what to do," her voice was a shaking whisper that sounded pathetic even to her own ears. Merlin knows how Tom thought it sounded.

_I want you stay._

That's what he wanted to come out of his mouth, but instead he was still and his tongue paralyzed. He cleared his throat after a moment, trying to get his wits about him. "Like you said, we can figure it out. How much time after the Ministry do you think you'll have?"

Her shoulders sagged slightly and he felt something in his stomach drop. "How much time, Delilah?"

"A day at most."

"Fucking hell."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't do that."

He fell back on the bed, his forearm thrown over his eyes as he tried to get a grip on the reality of the situation. Her hips were still settled against his and Tom's breath hitched when she shifted to lay down on his chest.

"What if we just... ran away somewhere."

He twirled some of her golden hair around his fingers and mustered up a chuckle, "oh that would be great, wouldn't it?"

"God yeah," her light laughter shook his chest as she looked up at him, resting her chin against his sternum. He sighed then, looking up at the old and cracked ceiling of the Inn. Despite how lovely the thought sounded, Tom knew he'd never be able to just up and leave. Even if it was with her. There was so much for him to do. A quiet life was one he would never be able to retain, even if he wanted to. He'd explode.

"We can't."

Tom watched as she closed her eyes, her lashes fanning above the circles that seemed to permanently hang under her eyes, tinting the skin a shade of purple. Sniffing dryly, she rested her head against his chest, trying to absorb every minute they still had together.

Delilah wanted to stay, she’d give anything. But did that include her family?

__________________________________

Later that night, Delilah was restless and found herself walking down the narrowed steps. A clock hung crooked on the wall, the arms pointing at two in the morning appeared to reach out for her in the shadows.

Going down to the pub area on the bottom level, her eyes looked around for no one in particular but fell in one boy.

"How are you holding up?" She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, the string smell of alcohol burning her nose.

Elio took a sip of his drink, letting the liquid seep into his tongue and other senses. Turning, he placed a chaste kiss to her forehead before resting his head against hers.

"Trying to cope."

"With Rosie?"

"No," he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, keeping his eye trained on a melting candle that stood in front of them. "You."

Her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, "what do you mean?"

"You're leaving, for good. It'll basically be like you're dying-"

"Hey, none of that. Please." She gripped his hand and he closed his eyes at the cold touch. Forcing himself to look at her, he observed Delilah for a moment and caught sight of his necklace. She never took it off and it made his head go hazy at the notion; heartfelt or not.

Delilah was acting a bit jittery and he narrowed his eyes, "what?"

"Nothing."

"Del."

Grabbing his glass, she took a drink of whiskey and refused to look at him. "I'm having, well I'm," resting her elbows on the table, she pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes.

"I'm having second thoughts."

Elio went still, not sure how to go about this. "Meaning?"

"I might stay."

"You might stay," he gaped at her for a moment, "Delilah are you serious? Why? You're friends, your family. Your brother!"

She gave a weak shrug, trying to comprehend both their emotions without getting riled up. “I know, but Tom-"

"Riddle didn't try to coerce you, did he? Merlin that selfish bastard. I should've known."

Delilah took note of how furious he looked in that moment, the candle light making his pale green eyes appear to be on fire. “That's not how this is, Elio. This is all me, all of it. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me."

"Why would I be angry at you?"

"I know you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are. And I feel like you have been for a very long time.”

"Fine!" He slammed his hand down on the table, making Delilah flinch and the few others in the pub stare at him. He clenched his jaw and stood up, taking hold of Delilah's elbow as he led them outside. Diagon Alley was pretty much empty at such a late hour.

Elio led them to the side of the inn under an enclave, it was still raining though not as hard. Delilah wrapped her arms around herself as leaned against the brick wall, watching him cautiously as he paced.

Tugging at his hair, the light brown curls glinted by the street lamps. "I am mad. I'm pissed off. At you, at him, at everything. Alright? How could you just- after everything?"

Delilah went to open her mouth but he held up a hand.

"I get it, you love him. You've loved him for a long time. More than you ever did for me, if you even did. And I realize there's not a damn thing I can do about that. But Delilah, this isn't just time that you're going to ruin, I couldn't give two shits about that. This is your family that you're leaving behind."

Elio watched her for a moment, he could feel that he was shaking but he didn't care.

"All your friends that you told me about? Luna, Blaise, Ron, Fred and George, Harry. You're okay with letting them go on knowing that you're dead? What about Harrison? You're never going to see him again."

Delilah clenched her jaw and looked down at the cobblestone street, her ears were ringing and she was beginning to get a headache due to everything moving so quickly. What he was saying was true, all of it was. However, that didn’t make her feel any better. Not like it was even supposed to.

"You're giving up your life, to be with him?" A chord struck in her chest as Elio yelled, his voice echoing down the empty streets, slightly shadowed by rain.

"What do you want me to say?" Delilah looked up finally and saw he had tears in his eyes, the pain etched into his gaze was painful. She couldn’t help but feel she was the cause for everyone’s pain. If it hadn’t been for her, they wouldn’t even have discovered Grindelwald’s collection and Rosie would still be alive.

"Anything, make me understand. Because I don't. If he had any sense of care for your well being he wouldn't let you stay. Even if it killed him to see you go, he'd make sure you got back to your friends and family." Elio was self projecting, but he didn’t know any other way to get his point across.

"He doesn't know the actual circumstances-"

"Does he have to!"

Delilah flinched back again for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Elio pointed a finger at himself, "because I didn't, and not for one moment did I think it would be better if you'd decided not to go. Not for one fucking second did I ever try to convince you stay, even though I would give anything for you to do so. Because I know it's not right."

Delilah slid to the floor as his words beat into her ears, bringing her knees up to her chest to calm her breathing. The breathing technique Tom had walked her through flew out of her memory due to her nerves being in such a jumble.

Elio sighed heavily and rubbed at the back of his neck before hesitantly sitting down next to her, not caring that his trousers were going to get wet.

"Elio," she began, her voice shaking slightly. "I am so tired." She turned to look at him, her eyes burning with frustration and anger. "You don't think I hate myself for even considering giving up my family? Because I do. This isn't some easy choice I'm making, it's not even a choice that I might make."

He gulped in an attempt to wet his dry mouth as he fumbled with his hands, "I know." His voice was so quiet she wasn't sure he spoke. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you it's just... I don't understand."

Licking her lips, Delilah twined her fingers with his and gave his hand a squeeze. "Neither do I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I turned 18 last week!! Which is wild and crazy and scary


End file.
